The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men
by Marcus S. Lazarus
Summary: What if M was lying when he said that the League we know was the first League? It is 1196, and a mysterious fortress has appeared in England. To solve its mystery, the King and his courtiers must form a team like nothing the world has ever seen...
1. The Mysterious Fortress

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, the Black Arrow, or anybody else you recognise. The plot is mine, and that's it.  
  
Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!  
  
AN: This story is set in 1196, so DON'T go looking for the League we know; they won't be involved in the action at all.  
  
The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men  
  
The evening was a quiet one. The field was peaceful, with no human habitation anywhere within view. There weren't even many insects in this part of the world, although nobody really knew the reason for this.  
  
The only sign of life was a lone figure on a horse, clad in a simple metal helmet, sturdy chain mail and dark trousers. He had a shield on his back and a sword hung from his waist, although he didn't look like he'd be ready to use either of these things any time soon; the way he was partly slumped into the saddle suggested that he was half-asleep as he rode through the field.  
  
Just then, the horse gave a small whinny, as though something had startled it. Blinking his eyes open under his helmet, the knight patted the horse reassuringly on the side of the neck.  
  
"Easy, girl, easy..." he mumbled, trying to focus on forming a coherent sentence. "What's wrong with you? There's nothing to be scared of..."  
  
Then he sensed it.  
  
Something was happening. What it was, he couldn't be sure, but it seemed as though the air was...  
  
_Shimmering.  
_  
Right in front of the knight's eyes, the air was shimmering like a reflection in a pool of water. Not only that, but as the shimmer faded from the air, something else was left in its place.  
  
It was a tower, several hundred feet in height, with several narrow slits positioned on it in various places. There was a large door that looked like it was large enough to let at least three men on horseback leave the tower at once, and the upper part of the castle was covered with several smaller towers, each one with very sturdy-looking battlements on them.  
  
Several mysterious robed creatures covered the battlements, each one a little bit taller than a man and wearing long dark robes. The knight couldn't see their faces, but he could just about see something red shining out from under their hoods.  
  
_Eyes?_ he asked himself, as he tensed himself to turn his horse around. _This isn't good...  
_  
He was certain of one thing only; he didn't like the looks of this. He wasn't very keen on even the idea of magic- he preferred a danger that he actually had a chance of stopping with his sword and other weapons. The tales of magicians and witches were all well and good, but there was a great difference between hearing tales about people fighting them and actually fighting them.  
  
Nervously, he turned his horse around, trying to keep quiet as he tugged on the reins. The horse seemed to be as scared as he was, given that it was also trying to keep quiet; at least, that's how it seemed to him.  
  
Then again, it could just be dumb coincidence...  
  
A loud crack came from the horse's feet, as it crushed a fairly large stick under its hooves.  
  
Instantly, the hooded creatures looked down towards the knight. A low hiss of anger was heard, and then four of the creatures had leapt off some of the lower turrets and were charging towards the knight.

* * *

As soon as the creatures had landed, the knight had turned his horse around and was charging away as fast as he could. He didn't know what these things were, but he knew that he didn't want to find out unless he had to. He had to get to the nearest village or castle as fast as he could, and hope that the creatures could be beaten back by sheer weight of numbers, if nothing else.  
  
"Come on, come on..." he whispered to the horse, as he dug his heels into its sides, trying to encourage to pick up speed. But even as he rode forward, and even as his horse's hooves pounded on the ground with more and more force, he still heard the creatures as they ran after him...  
  
And they were catching up.  
  
Despite a gut instinct that it might not be the smartest thing to do, the knight looked back. The creatures were catching up with him, shrugging their robes off as they started to stumble from all the cloth. In the dark, it was hard for the knight to see the things clearly, but he could see a couple of details that definitely weren't human. A tentacle here, a claw there, scales somewhere else...  
  
Then something caught his horse on the leg.  
  
As the faithful animal fell, the knight, although his mind was still hazy from a lack of sleep any time recently, leapt from his horse, drawing his sword and pulling his shield off his back as he turned to face the creatures.  
  
He probably didn't have a chance against these things; he wouldn't fool himself by thinking otherwise. However, he wouldn't allow himself to go down without a fight.  
  
"Bring it on," he whispered, as the creatures came towards him at full speed.  
  
As the first one charged towards him- a creature that looked like a man baring the fact that it seemed to have a squid on its head and was purple in colour- the knight swung his sword, and one of the tentacles on the creature's head fell to the ground, twitching as it did so. A second slash, and a large cut adorned the thing's chest, before the knight kicked it back.  
  
As soon as the first creature fell, a second one took its place. This creature looked mostly human, but had claws and a mane that resembled a lion's. Its face also looked slightly catlike, although the eyes gleamed with a fierce intelligence.  
  
The knight's first blow was parried by the lion-man, who knocked the sword back with its... paw, for lack of a better term... and then slashed at him, with a blow that he barely managed to knock aside with his shield. In the same movement, he hit the creature in the side of the head with his shield, and used its brief moment of confusion to slice off its head.

* * *

The knight fought well in that struggle. The odds were unlike anything he had ever encountered in his life, and the foes unlike anything he had known or heard of. Still, several of these hell-spawned monsters fell before his sword that night, and many more would bare the scars he gave them for some while afterwards.  
  
But, in the end, he fell.

* * *

From the top of the tower, a cloaked figure watched the scene below it with a dispassionate stare. It didn't even acknowledge the knight's bravery in standing against such overwhelming odds; after all, the man had made a very stupid decision in trying to fight them, no matter how brave it was.  
  
Underneath the hood that totally concealed the figure's head, a smile flickered on its lips.  
  
Soon, the demons the figure commanded would attack the world.  
  
And nothing could stand in her way... 


	2. The Recruitment of Robin Hood

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, the Black Arrow, or anybody else you recognise. The plot is mine, and that's it.  
  
Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!  
  
AN: Picture Robin Hood, Little John and Maid Marian as being portrayed by the actors who played them in 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves'- in other words, Robin is Kevin Costner, Marian is Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, and Little John is Nick Brimble. However, I am portraying them as they were from the book by Roger Lancelyn Green, and not as they were in 'Prince of Thieves', so don't be surprised by any contradictions there may be.  
  
queerquail: Glad you thought it was creepy; I was trying my best for that kind of atmosphere. Anyway, hope this chapter meets your expectations.  
  
Sean Malloy-1: This soon enough for you?  
  
Stallion: As always, I do what I can  
  
Andrew: I tried my best with the demons, and sorry about the death scene, but I thought it worked well enough.  
  
The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men  
  
Outside a large castle, looking like it could withstand several sieges and keep standing, a horse was riding for the door, a tall knight riding on its back. The knight's armour was a simple grey, but it gleamed so brightly in the sunlight that it almost seemed to be silver.  
  
Stopping the horse outside the castle, the knight got off it and, looking up at the tower near the gate, he called out, "Hello!"  
  
After a few seconds of waiting, a large figure appeared at the top of the tower. It was hard to be certain of height and appearance from so far away, but the man appeared to be almost seven feet tall, with a determined- looking face and a thick beard and hair.  
  
"Yes?" he asked, looking down at the knight. "Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Sir Edward," the knight replied. "I come from King Richard, with an urgent message for Robert Fitzooth, Earl of Huntingdon. May I come in?"  
  
"You may," the tall man replied. "Give me but a couple of minutes, and the door shall be opened."  
  
The man's figure vanished from the tower, and Sir Edward stood still, waiting for something to happen. Eventually, the door was opened, and Sir Edward walked into the castle. He nodded his thanks to the tall man, and the two of them walked into Locksley Hall.  
  
After going through a couple of halls and doors, Sir Edward and the tall man arrived in the main room of Locksley Hall, where two figures were sitting beside the fireplace.  
  
One of them was a tall man of around thirty-five years of age, with a determined expression on his face and in his eyes, and he looked to be in very good physical health as well. A longbow and a quiver full of arrows were lying beside him on the seat, and a sword hung lazily from his side.  
  
The second figure was a beautiful woman, with smooth skin that provided a vivid contrast to her dark red curls. Her lips were full and soft, and her eyes were a brilliant brown colour, and she, too, looked like she would perform better in a fight than her living conditions would suggest, and had a longbow and quiver near her.  
  
Sir Edward was prepared to guess that the two of them had recently come in from a hunting trip or shooting practice of some kind, and was briefly relieved to see that the man still practiced his shooting whenever he could; after two years, a man could loose his edge if he didn't practice now and again.  
  
Upon hearing the door open, the man got up from his seat and looked towards the two men.  
  
"Who is this man, Little John?" he asked the tall man, looking curiously at Sir Edward.  
  
"He says he is here from King Richard, with an urgent message for you," Little John said.  
  
"Really?" the man said, turning to face Sir Edward. "What is the message?"  
  
"It is thus, Robert of Locksley..." Sir Edward said, before he suddenly stopped talking. "I shall assume that you are indeed Robert of Locksley, he who was once known as Robin Hood?"  
  
"I am," the man replied, as he indicated the woman. "and this is my wife, Marian Fitzooth. Come, sit down and tell me what it is that Richard wants of me."  
  
"Thank you," Sir Edward replied, as he and Little John sat down alongside Robin and Marian. "England is in peril, Earl Robert."

* * *

Robert smiled a little at that statement. "It seems to be a rare day that it is not in some kind of peril," he replied, looking over at Sir Edward as he spoke. For reasons unknown, Sir Edward had not removed his helmet or any part of his armour for the conversation, but he decided not to inquire as to the reasons; he would presumably discover what they were in due course.  
  
"The King requires your services," Sir Edward explained, as he raised his visor to expose his brown, determined eyes. "We need you- _England_ needs you- to command a team of select individuals like yourself, to combat this danger."  
  
"Really?" Robert asked, looking at Sir Edward with a renewed curiosity. "What is the situation?"  
  
"That cannot be revealed yet," Sir Edward replied. "However, I will reveal it once the time is right, assuming you accept this offer. So, will you?"  
  
Robert sat there for a short while, his chin in his hands. Then he looked up at Sir Edward, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.  
  
"Is there any chance you could tell me more about what I shall be dealing with should I accept your offer?" he asked, raising a curious eyebrow.  
  
_**"I shall answer that question,"**_ a voice said from behind them.**_ "Us."_**  
  
The three men and the one woman spun around to look in the direction of the voice...  
  
And stared at the sight behind them in horror.

* * *

There were four monsters standing at the door to the main hall, covered in dirt and what appeared to be blood- evidently, they'd killed some of the people they'd run into while heading for the hall. However, all four creatures looked remarkably different from each other.  
  
The first one, apparently the one that had spoken, was a long creature that looked almost like an overgrown centipede, but the front four legs were longer and thicker, and it had a skull for a head rather than an insect's head.  
  
The second creature appeared to be just a badly sculpted model of a man, lacking true definition around the arms, legs and head. Its eyes were just a couple of random dots around its head, and the only things on its arms were a few claws. However, it did have one very distinguishing feature about it; a large mouth in the centre of its chest, with some extremely nasty teeth inside it.  
  
The third thing more resembled a robot, although none of the people there would have had anything to compare it to. Its entire body almost appeared to be covered in joints, and it had on a transparent helmet that revealed that its head was a human skull, or at least looked like one.  
  
The fourth monster was almost worse than any of the others. Over seven feet tall, with six legs, bulging glowing blue eyes, light brown chitin and one set of transparent wings, its front two legs almost looked like swords, especially given that it wasn't using them to walk.

* * *

The skull-headed centipede walked forward, it's eyes fixed on Robert.  
  
_**"We have come with a message for you, Robert of Locksley, he who was once known as Robin Hood,"**_ it said to him.  
  
"Really?" Robin asked, now partly recovered from his initial shock at seeing the creatures. As he spoke, his hands slowly inched their way towards his bow and quiver, lying on the chair behind him and hidden from the view of the demons. . "What message would that be?"  
  
_**"That, should you accept the offer that Sir Edward has given you, you shall lose all you hold dear,"**_ the creature replied.  
  
Robin sighed. "I once faced that possibility every day of my life, you foul creature," he replied, staring down at the skull-centipede with a look of contempt on his face. "It did not deter me then, and it shall not deter me now, though I now face the legions of Hell itself."  
  
The skull-centipede's eyes flashed red.**_ "Then you shall die,"_** it informed Robin, as it reared up onto its back legs.  
  
Instantly, Robin kicked out at its chest, knocking it back towards Little John. No sooner had it reached John, than the former outlaw had his massive arms clasped around the skull-centipede's waist, slowly squeezing it.  
  
As soon as the skull-centipede was immobilised, however briefly, the demon with its mouth on its chest charged forward, only to be stopped by Sir Edward striking it in the side with his sword. The blow didn't do much damage to the demon- it was so hard that the sword only slightly cut its side- but it was enough to turn the demon's attention away from Robin and onto Sir Edward.  
  
Smiling under his helmet, Sir Edward slashed at the creature with his sword, driving it away from Robin and Marian, who were using the temporary reprieve to grab their swords, bows and arrows. Before the remaining two demons could attack themselves, Robin had drawn his sword and was struggling with the bug demon, while Marian was duelling with the robot- like demon. 


	3. The First Demons

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, the Black Arrow, the Prince, or anybody else you recognise. The plot is mine, and that's it. Oh, and forgot to mention this earlier; the demons aren't mine either. I got their descriptions from both Angel and the DC Green Arrow storyline 'Quiver'.  
  
Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!  
  
Sean Molloy-1: Was this fast enough for you?  
  
Kaudrim: I can assure you the characters themselves will be interesting ones, and I hope you enjoy their introductions, although there's only around three or four members in the Fellowship besides Robin.  
  
The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men  
  
After the skull centipede had continued to struggle and kick for some while, Little John concluded that this approach wasn't going to win him the battle. Evidently, no matter how strong he was, he couldn't squeeze the life out of a demon that was practically a large bug; its skin was far too strong.  
  
So, changing tactics, he dropped the skull-centipede down onto the ground, and then, before it could do anything else, he drew his sword from his belt and slashed at the monster, making a small gash near its centre.  
  
Growling, the creature looked up at Little John, its eyes flashing red. Little John drew back his sword, and dived onto the bug, desperately trying to get through its armoured hide.

* * *

Marian was having a slightly easier time of it than Little John was. The creature she was fighting may have had a hide that was just as strong as the skull centipede's, but it was a lot slower than the aforementioned demon, Therefore, although Marian couldn't hope to overpower it, she could stay one step ahead of it no matter how strong it was, which did give her a couple of advantages.  
  
The only question was, as the creature continued to swing its fists at her, were her current advantages going to remain advantages for much longer?  
  
As she narrowly managed to knock one of its punches back with her sword, a feat that required her to exert all her strength, she decided that this fight would not be over in a matter of minutes. She'd need to try harder if she was going to survive this fight.

* * *

As Sir Edward struck and parried the blows dealt by his demonic opponent, he finally began to understand why the King was so worried about these creatures. Up until now, all he'd heard about them was based purely on rumour and what the local villagers had seen. But now that he was actually trying to_ fight_ one of these creatures, well...  
  
They were a lot stronger than he'd ever imagined they would be. The creature may_ look_ like it had been made entirely out of mud and then baked into one shape, but it was incredibly difficult to even _scratch_ it, never mind actually do any lasting damage to it.  
  
However, no matter what the odds were against him winning this fight, Sir Edward would not go down without a fight.

* * *

Robin couldn't believe how much of a fight the bug-like creature was putting up. Every blow it threw at him had a remarkable amount of strength behind it, and its front legs seemed to him to almost be a match for the swords that the sheriff's men had used against him when he had been an outlaw.  
  
The only reason it hadn't struck a killing blow already was that his reflexes, honed to near-perfection, were managing to react to the creature's blows before they could actually land on him. However, that advantage couldn't last forever; he'd get tired eventually, and how did he know this creature wasn't able to keep fighting for a lot longer than any human, no matter how well-trained?  
  
Looking around at his fellows, Robin noticed that Marian and Sir Edward had managed to drive their opponents out of the hall; in fact, he caught a brief glimpse of Marian's legs before she moved on down the corridor and out of his line of vision. However, Little John was still struggling with his bug-like demon in this room,  
  
Deciding he might as well try and even the odds for his friends, Robin launched a desperate kick at the bug- creature's chest, followed closely by a desperate slash at its face.  
  
It succeeded in its objective; namely, knocking the bug back long enough for Robin to pull out his bow and launch an arrow at the skull centipede that was attacking Little John.  
  
It was a bulls-eye.  
  
The arrow struck the thin line that connected the demon's head to the rest of its body, burying itself deep inside the creature's head and striking its brain before it could even finish its current attack on Little John. The creature turned, looked at Robin with a glare in its eyes, and then fell forward onto its face, dark purple blood leaking from the wound.  
  
Little John looked up at Robin and nodded his thanks. Then the two of them charged at the remaining bug demon, their swords drawn, and they began to strike at it with renewed strength and energy. The bug creature tried desperately to parry the blows from the two former rouges, but it was impossible for any creature to hold out for long against two swords, no matter how strong its legs were.  
  
After only a couple of minutes, Robin managed to get in a strike at its chest while it was occupied with preventing Little John from cutting off its head, running the creature right through before it could even cry out in pain.  
  
Robin pulled his sword out of the creature. It was covered in a light green fluid, which he wiped off on his trouser leg, before looking up at Little John.  
  
"Thank you for your assistance, John," he said, nodding at his friend.  
  
"As far as I am concerned, I am still in your debt," Little John replied, before indicating the door that Marian and Sir Edward had left the room by while fighting their demons. "Shall we assist them?"  
  
"We shall," Robin replied. "You got to Marian; you possess the greater physical strength of the two of us, and she shall definitely require that against her opponent." He put an arrow to his bow and drew it back, looking at Little John with a determined glare. "I shall assist Sir Edward in his fight. If all goes well, return here once your foe is vanquished and wait for me."  
  
He began to walk down the hall, but Little John grabbed his arm before he could go too far down the corridor.  
  
"And if all does not go well?" he asked his friend.  
  
Robin looked back at Little John with a melancholy expression. "Then I shall be dead, and you shall have to confront this monster as best you can," he said, regretfully. "If that should happen, promise me you shall care for Marian in my absence."  
  
Little John nodded, and then the two of them dived down the opposite ends of the corridor, heading for their friends.

* * *

Desperately, Marian kept on ducking and weaving away from the creature's powerful fists, desperately trying to find a weak spot in its armour-like skin at every available opportunity. However, it wasn't easy; every time she got in a blow that at least had the potential to be fatal, the creature blocked it with one of its arms and knocked her sword back.  
  
Just as Marian was starting to think that she'd continue to fight this thing until it gave up and died, something charged into it and hit it from behind, knocking it to the ground at once.  
  
Before Marian could even register what had knocked the creature down, she had automatically driven her sword through the transparent helmet around its head, and pierced the creature's brain. It screamed once, then died, purple blood leaking onto Marian's sword.  
  
Pulling her sword out of the creature's head, Marian looked at the form that had tackled it to the ground, recognising it as Little John.  
  
"Thank you," she said to her old friend.  
  
Little John smiled. "I would do it a hundred times over, Marian," he replied. "I once made a vow to protect all women of noble ilk, and you are one of the noblest I know."  
  
He smiled at Marian, and then his smile faded and his face became more professional. "We must go. Robin will be waiting for us in the hall once he has aided Sir Edward."  
  
Marian nodded, and the two of them headed back towards the main hall.

* * *

Robin hadn't had as much luck with finding Sir Edward as Little John had had with finding Marian. The knight had unfortunately been forced down into one of Locksley Hall's more confusing corridors, which had so many doors on either side that is was perfectly feasible for Sir Edward to have taken the fight into one of them in order to protect any of Robin's servants and friends getting hurt.  
  
Eventually, however, he managed to find the knight, trapped in one room of the hall while he struggled with the large purple demon.  
  
Instantly, Robin launched his arrow at the creature, striking it in the back of the neck. It didn't pierce the creature's hide, but it did serve its purpose; it stopped attacking Sir Edward and turned around to face Robin, baring its massive mouth at the skilled nobleman.  
  
Licking its sharp teeth with a massive purple tongue, it roared at Robin and charged towards him. However, in the few seconds available to him, Robin had pulled out a second arrow, loaded it to his bow, and fired it right into the creature's mouth.  
  
The creature screamed in pain and swung around in pain, allowing Sir Edward to get in another slash at the creature's hide. Unable to withstand this blow after all the other damage it had sustained, the creature collapsed onto the ground, blood bubbling from its mouth.  
  
Robin looked at Sir Edward, and nodded his thanks.  
  
Sir Edward nodded back in reply. "So, Robin of Locksley," he said. "Now that you have encountered these creatures that we have to deal with, will you accept our request for your services?"  
  
Robin nodded. "I am with you," he said. "Simply let me bid farewell to Marin and Little John, and I shall be ready to leave."  
  
"Excellent," Sir Edward smiled. "Now, pack your bags; you teammates will be waiting for you." 


	4. The Meeting of the Fellowship

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, the Black Arrow, the Prince, or anybody else you recognise. The plot is mine, and that's it. Oh, and forgot to mention this earlier; the demons aren't mine either. I got their descriptions from both Angel and the DC Green Arrow storyline 'Quiver'.  
  
Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!  
  
Sean Molloy-1: Good suggestion, but it wouldn't work; technically, Shrek's a fairy-tale character, so he doesn't fit in with the other members of the Fellowship.  
  
The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men  
  
Robin was starting to get tired of this adventure. He would be lying if he said that he'd expected the action to start straight away, but he would have expected Sir Edward to have given him a bit more information on the current crisis by this time.  
  
So far, all that had happened had been several hours of riding on a horse with Sir Edward leading the way, over some of the most boring terrain Robin had ever seen in his life. He was itching to actually use his arrows on something soon; he'd been out of practice for too long...  
  
"We're here," Sir Edward said, as he pulled on his horse's reins and stopped. Robin did likewise, and looked at the sight in front of him  
  
It was a large castle, mostly ruined in certain areas, but certain rooms still looked like someone could live in them without being exposed to the elements. However, there weren't enough liveable rooms to allow anyone to live the castle full-time, as far as Robin could see.  
  
He looked over at Sir Edward with a puzzled expression in his eyes.  
  
"My associates are here?" he asked, sounding slightly surprised.  
  
Sir Edward nodded. "If they aren't here now, then they will be shortly," he replied. "You are to go through that door," he continued, indicating a bulky wooden door in the wall near to their current location, "and, if nobody is there at present, you are to wait for them to arrive. When the King arrives, or once your fellows arrive, he shall inform you and your fellows about the crisis, and direct you to your next port of call."  
  
"I see," Robin said, as he tied his horse to a nearby tree, shouldered his bow and arrows, and walked into the door, leaving Sir Edward outside.  
  
Sir Edward nodded a little as the large oak door shut behind the legendary outlaw.  
  
"Good luck, Robin of Locksley," he said, bowing his head in a respectful manner. "Against such dangerous foes, you shall need all the luck you possess."  
  
Then he turned his horse around and trotted away from the castle, leaving Robin's horse standing outside the castle as it chewed away on some grass.

* * *

Once he had walked through the door, Robin found himself in a large chamber, lit only by some narrow windows and a few large candlesticks here and there. The walls of the room were covered with shelves, each shelf covered with all kinds of books and pieces of parchment. There was also a large table in the centre, which only had one person sitting at it. The candles were pretty dim down at that end, but Robin still recognized the person sitting there...  
  
"King Richard!" the former outlaw cried, as he knelt down on one knee in front of the man.  
  
The King smiled. "You may sit down, Robin of Locksley," he said, indicating one of the chairs opposite him. Robin took the seat as the King started to talk. "I must say, I am glad I was able to persuade my courtiers to include you as a member of the Fellowship of Extraordinary Men."  
  
Robin blinked. "The what?" he asked.  
  
The King smiled. "A new concept I and my courtiers have come up with," he explained. "Simply put, it is a team of five members- yourself included- each of whom possess a power that makes them stand above the normal abilities of men and women."  
  
"Interesting," Robin commented.  
  
Just then, he heard a clinking sound from behind him. Looking back, he saw the door open and a third figure entered the room. This figure was wearing the armour of a knight of the Crusades, complete with a dark red tunic and a long sword by his side, and had a determined look on his face.  
  
"These books are full of interesting things," King Richard smiled, as he noticed the gleam of recognition in Robin's eyes. "And the extraordinary, naturally. Robin Hood, Ivanhoe; if I recall correctly, you two have already met when we reclaimed my castle from my brother John?"  
  
"Remember?" Ivanhoe replied, smiling broadly at Robin. "How could I forget? Rarely does a man get the chance to fight with such renowned allies as you, Robin Hood! I am pleased that we shall be working together on this endeavour."  
  
"As am I, Ivanhoe," Robin replied, as the two men clasped hands fondly. He looked back at the king. "Are the other members men of our acquaintance?"  
  
"No," Richard replied. "However, more of them should arrive soon, so shall I begin to fill you in on our current crisis?"  
  
"Agreed," Ivanhoe replied, taking a seat beside Robin. "What is the nature of this problem?"  
  
In reply, Richard picked out a parchment from the shelves behind him, and passed it to Robin and Ivanhoe.  
  
Looking at the parchment, Robin and Ivanhoe found themselves looking at a very detailed picture of a large tower, with several narrow slits positioned on it in various places, with a large door at the bottom and several smaller towers jutting out at the top.  
  
Robin looked up at the King. "What is this?" he asked.  
  
"The reason we have called you all together," the King explained. "This fortress is the source of the creatures that have been plaguing the country for some while now."  
  
"Creatures?" Ivanhoe asked.  
  
"Creatures," Robin confirmed. Noting the puzzled expressions on the faces of the king, he sighed. "I forgot to mention it earlier, but when I was recruited I was attacked by some of the creatures. I barely managed to stop the four of them with the aid of Marian, Little John and Sir Edward."  
  
"Yes, I was informed of that," the King replied. "In fact, that is connected with your instructions; it gives us an opportunity that we would not have had otherwise."  
  
"Wait a moment," Ivanhoe said, raising an inquiring finger. "What 'creatures' are we talking about, and why do you need to form this team to deal with it? Surely conventional forces would be more than adequate for the task."  
  
"No, they are not," the King replied. "The 'creatures' we have mentioned are, to put it bluntly... demons." Ivanhoe's face assumed a horrified expression as Richard continued to speak. "Conventional forces have been used, but they have been ineffective; the tower's defences are very powerful. We're hoping that a smaller team, consisting of the best fighters we have available to us, will be able to infiltrate the tower by stealth where brute strength has proved ineffective."  
  
Ivanhoe nodded. "It makes sense," he said, looking back at the picture.  
  
Robin looked over at the King. "How many members will be in this Fellowship?" he asked.  
  
"Three more, apart from you two," Richard explained. "Two of them will be here shortly, and then you four will leave to contact the fifth member. His general location is known to us, but we have been unable to get a message to him as of yet; he always moves away before our envoys can reach him."  
  
"Why?" Robin asked.  
  
The King smiled. "He is a private man," he replied. "Let us leave it at that." Then he looked up at the door. "Ah, the others are coming."  
  
The door opened, and two men walked into the room.  
  
The first man was wearing a black hood and mask that covered his entire head save for his mouth and chin. He was dressed in black armour and a dark red tunic, and carried a longbow and quiver on his back  
  
The second man was remarkably different. He was topless, with white trousers and brown boots on his legs, along with brown and gold gauntlets, a blue belt, and a log sword at his side. He appeared to be in good physical condition, with a muscular chest and a determined face. His hair hung down around his forehead in two long strands.  
  
The King stood up. "Ah, you're here," he said, smiling at the men.  
  
"Well, we have no reason to be late, your highness," the armoured man said, before looked over at Robin. "And you must be Robin Hood," he said, smiling and nodding at the former outlaw. "I am the Black Arrow. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."  
  
"Call me Robin," Robin replied, shaking the man's hand. "We have a crisis; this is no time for formality." He looked over at the second man. "And you are?"  
  
"You may call me 'the Prince'," the man replied, looking over at Robin. "I am from Persia."  
  
"Really?" Robin asked, curiously. "May I ask why you are joining us on this endeavour, if it is not even in your country?"  
  
The Prince looked over at Robin. "I have committed some terrible sins in my time," he bluntly informed the archer. "I seek to atone for them with this act."  
  
"What kind of sins?" Ivanhoe asked.  
  
"Gentlemen..." the king said, looking up at the others. "As fascinating as this talk is, the fate of England is at stake, and you still have one more member to recruit. You shall find a cart awaiting you a couple of miles away; your instructions shall be there." He tapped a little on the table. "Time is running out, gentlemen."  
  
"We're going already?" the Black Arrow asked. "The Prince and I haven't been filled in on the crisis."  
  
"We shall tell you on the way to the cart," Ivanhoe said, as they headed for the door. "Let's go; we're still one man short for this little endeavour." 


	5. The Final Member

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, the Black Arrow, the Prince, the demons, or anybody else you recognise. The plot is mine, and that's it.  
  
Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!  
  
Sean Molloy-1: I hope I will  
  
Funky in Fishnet: Don't forget, there's still one more member to come... Oh, for future reference, the Prince is from the game 'Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time', and I thank Duncan Gregory for suggesting him  
  
The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men  
  
After they had left the castle, the four members of the Fellowship had climbed back onto their horses, which had been tied up alongside Robin's horse, and started to ride down a road where King John had said the cart was to be found.  
  
After a few minutes riding, the Black Arrow looked over at Robin Hood.  
  
"I have to admit, I was surprised to learn that you would be leading this Fellowship, Robin," he said to his new leader.  
  
"Really?" Robin asked, looking at the man. "Why?"  
  
"From what I have read of you, I understood that you had retired from the outlaw life," the Black Arrow replied. "Therefore, I do not understand why you wish to return to it now."  
  
Robin smiled. "An excellent question," he said, wishing he knew the Black Arrow's real name. However, if the man didn't want to tell Robin his name, he wouldn't pressure him into it against his will. "I suppose that, at the heart of the matter, I'm here because I wanted to have another adventure."  
  
"Yes... It's hard to just stop," the Prince commented, from his position beside Robin. "Even if you want to end the adventuring life for good, you just can't give up the thrill of it, the rush that comes of putting your life on the line..." He trailed off.  
  
Ivanhoe looked up ahead, and saw a long cart standing on the road in front of them, its contents hidden by a large covering. "We're there," he said to the others.  
  
The Prince looked at the cart curiously. "There are no horses," he said, turning to look at the others. "How is this cart to go anywhere?"  
  
"Presumably our horses are expected to pull the cart?" Ivanhoe said, looking at the straps in front of the cart. It was certainly enough material to allow all four animals to be strapped onto the cart.  
  
"Right," Robin said, as he got off his horse and led it towards the cart. He looked back at the others. "Tie up the horses, then into the cart. If King Richard was accurate, our instructions are in here already."

* * *

A couple of minutes later, the Fellowship had gotten into the cart, which was far more than it had appeared from the outside. Not only were there the instructions for their mission in the middle of the cart, there were also several piles of weaponry that couldn't fail to come in useful.  
  
Bows, arrows, swords, shields, armour, spears...  
  
They had enough equipment here to fight a small war.  
  
However, Robin bypassed all the weaponry and picked up the sheets of paper in the middle of the cart. There would be time to gather weaponry together later; right now, they had a crisis to deal with.  
  
He sat down on one of the seats in the cart, the other three members of the Fellowship sitting around him on the rest of the seats.  
  
Ivanhoe leaned forward, looking at the piece of paper. "What are our orders?" he asked.  
  
Robin looked up as though he'd briefly forgotten the other members were there. Then he got back to the matter at hand.  
  
"We are to go directly to a castle only a few miles away, where our final member awaits us," he said, as he put the paper down. "Then, we are to go directly to a house, where we shall find someone who may be able to give us more information on this threat we face."  
  
"And from there, we take any action we see fit in order to reach and destroy the fortress, correct?" the Prince asked.  
  
Robin nodded. "However, the king expressly states that we are to avoid making contact with our final member during the day; apparently, our fifth member's extraordinary abilities come with the awkward side effects of being unable to go out into the sunlight."  
  
The Black Arrow looked over at Robin. "He can't go out in sunlight?" he asked. "Why not?"  
  
Robin sighed. "Once we have recruited him, I shall answer that question for you," he said simply. He looked around at the others. "So, who's driving?"  
  
"I will," Ivanhoe said. "In the meantime, you three can take the opportunity to get to know each other; Robin and I have already met, but you two," he said, looking over at the Black Arrow and the Prince, "are relative strangers to us. We should be filled in on your histories before we meet the final member."  
  
"A fair point," the Prince said. "We shall do so."

* * *

"So, what are these 'sins' you mentioned earlier?" Robin asked the Prince, as the three of them settled down in the cart while Ivanhoe drove them to their next destination. According to the map, the location in question was a large castle a few miles away, which had been abandoned some twenty-odd years ago after its last inhabitant- an elderly former knight- had died in his sleep without leaving any relatives. Robin was using the time as Ivanhoe had suggested; finding out more about his teammates.  
  
The Prince sighed. "It is a long story, but I shall make it as brief as I can," he said. "To begin with, I was only interested in seeking glory and triumph for myself in order to please my father, the Shah of Persia, but that all changed when I aided a traitorous Vizier in conquering a Maharajah who possessed the Hourglass of Time, a mystical artefact that, together with a certain dagger, could give their bearer the power of a God. I accidentally unleashed the Sands in the hourglass, which tainted all life around them by turning them into zombies that could only be killed by the Dagger."  
  
"So you battled the creatures?" the Black Arrow asked. "But surely you could not do that alone?"  
  
"I could not have, if I were only human," the Prince replied. "However, the Dagger also gave me the power to manipulate time in my immediate vicinity up to a certain degree; it could rewind up to 60 seconds of time, stop enemies while time continued around them, speed me up so that I could strike many foes and dodge fatal blows instantly, and slow down time and stop all enemies in an area. I worked my way through the castle with the aid of the Maharajah's daughter, Farrah, but she died when trying to battle the sand creatures herself."  
  
Robin sighed. "I am sorry," he said, placing a hand on the Prince's shoulder. The Prince's body language clearly indicated that Farrah had meant a great deal to him.  
  
"It's all right," the Prince replied. "Anyway, I managed to use the hourglass to reverse Time so none of those events had ever happened, but, realising I could never have Farrah, I returned the dagger to her and left the kingdom. Since then, I have travelled the seven seas with my crew, but have been plagued by accidents due to my being hounded by the Fates for my casual attitude towards Time." He sighed. "That is the reason why I am here; to, hopefully, break my curse, and allow my crew and I to wander the seas freely, without any danger from the Gods. They await my return at the port, with my ship, and I pray I shall be able to bring them good news."  
  
The Black Arrow nodded. "A commendable goal," he said. "My motives for being here are far simpler; I'm bored. Life as leader of the Fellowship of the Black Arrow can get very boring at times..." He noticed Robin and the Prince looking at him curiously, and smiled. "Forgive me; I forgot that I have not explained my history to you two. I am the founder of the Fellowship of the Black Arrow, a group of some of my closest friends, dedicated to the protection of our lands and men in secret. However, things have been fairly quite lately, so I have joined the Fellowship as a means of keeping my skills in practice."  
  
(AN: This may not be the description of the Fellowship of the Black Arrow in 'The Black Arrow' by Robert Louis Stephenson, but if it's wrong, just assume that, over the three centuries or so between this story and the War of the Roses, when 'The Black Arrow' is set, that the purpose of the Fellowship got distorted over time, so that its members came to have totally different goals from what they did originally.)

* * *

After some other lines of conversation had been exchanged- Robin's life following his pardon, the methods and membership of the Fellowship of the Black Arrow, the ways of life back in Persia- the cart stopped moving outside a large castle.  
  
Ivanhoe looked back at the others. "We're here," he said.  
  
Nodding, the other three members of the Fellowship leapt off the cart and looked up at the castle. It was hard to make out most of the details about the castle, rather like the castle they'd just come from, in that a couple of the rooms appeared to be in good condition, but the majority of the castle was too damaged for anyone to live in it comfortably.  
  
"It doesn't look like much," the Black Arrow said, looking over at Ivanhoe.  
  
"Well, according to the map, this is the place," Ivanhoe replied, as he walked towards the door, followed by the rest of the Fellowship.  
  
Stopping in front of the main door to the castle, Ivanhoe looked back at Robin. "You knock," he said. "As the leader of this fellowship, it is your duty to initiate first contact with our fifth member."  
  
Robin nodded, walked up to the door, and knocked.  
  
A couple of minutes later, the door was opened by a tall man with a lined face and dark hair. He was dressed in a dark black tunic and leggings, and had a sword on his side and a bow and a quiver full of arrows on his back.  
  
(AN: Picture him as looking like William Dafoe, but his hair's longer than normal, and black.)  
  
"Yes?" he asked, looking curiously at Robin.  
  
"Marcus, I presume?" Robin asked.  
  
The man nodded. "I am. What do you want from me?"  
  
"My name is Robin Hood," Robin said, extending his hand towards the man. "These are my associates, Ivanhoe, the Prince, and the Black Arrow. We come from King Richard the Lion-Heart."  
  
"Ah," Marcus said, as he shook Robin's hand. "I see. This would be about the so-called 'Fellowship of Extraordinary Men', correct?" His face, not exactly welcoming to start with, became even less so. "I'm not interested. I have more important matters to attend to than help out a few mere mortals. Good day to you."  
  
He turned around to go back into the castle, but Robin grabbed his arm, pulling out a piece of parchment as he spoke.  
  
"Perhaps this will help you decide," he said, passing the parchment to Marcus. "It's a pardon from the King, stating that he and his knights shall do their best to ensure that you and your kind are never bothered by the common people, so long as you never kill humans. Cattle, he can forgive; people, he cannot."  
  
Marcus took the parchment and looked at it for a short while, before looking up at Robin.  
  
"I'm in," he said simply. "Let me just give my followers instructions to carry out in my absence, and I'll be right with you."  
  
Robin smiled. "Thank you." He looked up at the sky. "We'd better get moving; we want to cover as much distance as possible before the sun rises."  
  
The Black Arrow looked over at Robin curiously. "Would you mind telling me why Marcus has a problem with the sun?" he asked.  
  
Robin shook his head. "I'll explain later," he said. "Right now, we don't have the time to talk." 


	6. The Prince's Dream

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, any of the demons they're fighting, or Malcolm; he's someone from fiction going around under an alias. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some! 

Sean Malloy-1: This soon enough for you?

Funky in Fishnet: You guessed right; not only is Marcus a vampire, but he's one of the vampire Elders from the film 'Underworld'- you ever seen it? But, glad you liked the pasts of the Black Arrow and the Prince; I was hoping they'd work out well.

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

"So," Marcus asked, as he sat down in the cart with the rest of the Fellowship, "what, exactly, is the situation I'll be helping you with?"

"Demons," the Prince said, as Ivanhoe started to drive the cart onward to their next destination. "A fortress, origins unknown, has appeared in the centre of England, inhabited by several demons, although their numbers are unknown. Attacks on it by the King's armies have proved fruitless so far, so they have created our fellowship to find out the fortress's secret."

"I see," Marcus said, looking at the picture of the fortress in his hands.

"I confess a certain curiosity as to what, exactly, you shall bring to this Fellowship, Marcus," the Black Arrow put in. "The rest of us all have traits which are useful in this little endeavour; Robin and I are the best archers of our time, Ivanhoe is an exceptionally talented knight, and the Prince has knowledge of remarkable martial arts abilities. What of you?"

Marcus smiled. "I have two things that none of you are likely to have," he replied. "The first is simple; I have great experience of the world at large."

The Black Arrow raised a surprised eyebrow at that; Marcus didn't look all that much older than the rest of the Fellowship.

"How can you have experienced more than us, when you are around the same age as Robin and I?" he asked.

Marcus smiled again, an enigmatic smile that made him look far older than he had at first. "That is connected to the second thing I bring to this team," he said, as he stood up and, despite shaking slightly due to the uneven ground, walked over to a large box full of swords, that must have weighed at least several tonnes, and picked it up with as little effort as though it had been a twig.

He looked back at the Fellowship as he put the box back down. "Extraordinary enough for you?" he asked casually.

The Black Arrow and the Prince stared at Marcus in amazement; they just couldn't believe what they'd just seen. Robin looked a bit calmer then they did, but, then again, he had the advantage of having read the information the King had on Marcus; he'd _known _about the man's superhuman strength.

"Wh... what?" the Prince asked, his usual calm attitude lost for the moment. "How can you... can you..."

"Do that?" Marcus smiled. "The reason is simple; I'm not human. I'm a vampire, a being like a human but possessing superhuman strength, speed, reflexes, and practical immortality." He shrugged a little as he looked at his hands. "Of course, there are certain disadvantages, such as being unable to go out into the sunlight and a dependence upon drinking blood to survive, but in general, the positive effects are far greater than the negative ones."

"Wait a minute..." the Black Arrow said, raising one hand in alarm. "You drink _blood_?!"

Marcus looked puzzled for a moment, and then smiled reassuringly at the masked man.

"Don't worry; I won't use any of you as a snack," he assured them. "As one of the elder vampires in the world, I was responsible for the creation of a rule that bans all vampires from drinking the blood of innocent people; we only drink the blood of cattle these days. I'm not going to violate my own rules, no matter what the temptation is."

He sighed a little. "Of course, if it was my colleague, Viktor, you were working with, you may have a bit of a problem; we sometimes need to keep an eye on him when he's active. One of the oldest vampires in the world at this time, but he often acts like the rules don't apply to him. He's been the cause of a couple of problems for us."

"Ah, that was what the King was referring to in that royal pardon he had us give you?" Robin asked.

"Exactly," Marcus replied. "I'm not just in this for myself; I'm in it to save my people from being wrongly attacked for murders they didn't commit."

"A noble goal," the Prince said, nodding at Marcus.

"Thank you," Marcus replied. Then he glanced over at Robin. "Where are we going now?"

"To the house of an occult expert whose resources have been used by the Government now and again," Robin replied. "According to King Richard, Sir Edward- the knight that recruited me," he added, noting the momentary confusion on the faces of his fellow members.

"Anyway, Sir Edward and I were attacked by some of the demons we shall be facing when he visited my castle, but we managed to kill them before they could hurt us. According to the King, Sir Edward had some of the demon's bodies sent over to this 'Malcolm' so that he could examine them and give us some information on the person that is controlling them."

"Controlling them?" the Black Arrow asked.

* * *

"Well, you don't think several demons just decided to come up and play for no good reason?" Marcus asked, with the casual attitude that came with a couple of centuries of life. "There has to be some sort of central intelligence behind this little mess; if the demons were capable of attempting this sort of thing by themselves, they'd probably have done it long ago."

The Prince nodded. "An astute point, Marcus," he said, a half-smile on his face as he thought of the idea. Then he looked back at Robin. "How far away is this occult expert, may I ask?"

"Oh, only a few hours by cart," Robin replied. "We should be there shortly before sunrise, so Marcus will be perfectly safe from the sun."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine when we go into this expert's house, but how about going out?" Ivanhoe said from the front of the cart, where he'd been listening in on everything that his fellow Fellowship members had been saying in the back. "I mean, we have no idea how long we'll need to stay in the house; if the sun rises, what will we do about Marcus?"

The vampire didn't reply. Instead, he reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a large brown cloak, complete with a hood.

"I'll wear this," Marcus replied simply. Then he put the cloak down underneath his seat, lay back against the 'wall' of the cart, and shut his eyes. "In the meantime, let me just catch a couple of hour's worth of rest before we get there."

Robin smiled. "An excellent idea, Marcus," he said. "I think we all should do the same. Ivanhoe!" he called out to the knight, who was still sitting at the front of the cart while driving the horses.

"Yes?" Ivanhoe replied, taking his eyes off the road to look back at his strange new colleagues.

"We're just going to have a brief doze," Robin explained. "However, when about an hour has passed, I want you to wake me so that you can get some sleep; I shall steer the cart while you catch some rest. Clear?"

"As crystal, Robin," Ivanhoe replied. "Sleep well," he added, as the Fellowship fell asleep, Robin barely staying awake long enough to see the Prince and the Black Arrow nodding off as well...

* * *

_The Prince blinked in surprise at the sight in front of him._

_He was standing on a battlefield, surrounded by the bodies of apparently countless murdered knights. He could only see one moving figure on the entire battlefield; a lone knight, his arm stretched out after a boat that was drifting away on a nearby lake. _

_The Prince recognised this scene from stories he'd read of when he was younger. The tales were English in origin, but a member of his family had visited England in the past and had found out about these tales, and had told them to his family upon his return._

_The Prince was witnessing King Arthur's trip to Avalon, after his final battle with the forces of evil...._

_Namely, the witch Morgraine LeFay._

_Walking forward, the Prince looked around the battlefield, trying to see if he could see anyone still alive amidst this terrible slaughter. He knew it was pointless; the legends said clearly that only Sir Bedevere had survived this terrible confrontation and remained in England._

_But, with his sensitivity to the flow of time following his exposure to the Dagger, he rarely dreamt of anything that didn't have some relevance to a situation he was involved in at present. He couldn't see how the final fight of the Knights of the Round Table could be involved in a mass attack on England by several demons, but he had to _see_ if he could find anything. _

_Then he saw it. Near the centre of the field, with several bodies lying around the centre as though they'd been trying to reach someone in particular, was a man in black armour, lying on the ground with a fatal-looking stab wound in his side. His head was turned away from the Prince, but he didn't appear to be in that bad a condition._

_As the Prince edged closer and closer towards the body..._

* * *

...He was awakened by the Black Arrow shaking his shoulder.

"We're here," the Black Arrow told his friend.

The Prince blinked the sleep away from his eyes, cursing the bad luck that had made the Black Arrow wake him up before he could see the mysterious knight's face. He couldn't explain it, but he got the impression that the knight would play an important part in this adventure...

However, he shook it off and jumped out of the cart after the rest of the Fellowship. He noted that Robin and Ivanhoe had indeed swapped places at some point while he was asleep, and Robin was currently tying the horses up on a tree near the house which, the Prince guessed, was the home of the occult expert they had come here to talk to.

It wasn't an especially large house, being only a simple one-storey affair made of stone with a thatched roof. However, the smoke that issued from all the windows and holes, coupled with the fact that there were several assorted organs hanging on the outside of the house, dissuaded any ideas that the house was a normal one.

* * *

"Well, this is... interesting," Ivanhoe said, looking over at Marcus, who was already pulling his massive brown cloak over his head. "What is your opinion of it, Marcus?"

"His house certainly matches the living conditions of past occultists of my acquaintance," Marcus replied, as he pulled the hood over his head. The sun wasn't up yet, but he didn't believe in taking any chances. "However, whether or not his skills will be all we have heard of from the King, I cannot say. We shall have to go in and see."

"Very well," Robin said, walking up and knocking on the door.

It was opened after only a couple of minutes by a tall, handsome man with a slight scar on one cheek, long, dark and dirty hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing an elegant dark blue robe with gold embroidery around the sleeves, and carried a long wooden staff with a glowing blue ball on one end of it. A long, elegant sword hung at his side.

(AN: Think of him as looking like Pierce Brosnan, but, of course, a little dirtier.)

"Yes?" he asked Robin. "Can I help you?"

"I believe so- that is, if you are Malcolm, the occult expert we have been sent to meet," Robin replied. "We are the Fellowship of Extraordinary Men; I assume King Richard informed you we would be coming?"

"Ah, so _you're _the Fellowship I've heard so much about!" Malcolm smiled, as he opened his door and stepped back to allow the Fellowship to enter. "Please, come right in; I just finished examining those demon corpses the king sent me."

"Excellent," the Prince said, as he and the rest of the Fellowship stepped into Malcolm's house. "We were... wondering if...."

His voice trailed off as he saw the inside of the house. It was filled to the brim with all kinds of pots and plates, each one with oddly coloured steam coming out of them. Several assorted organs were hanging from hooks on the walls, although some of them didn't even look human; if nothing else, the Prince was fairly sure no human had hands and arms that looked like massive knives. There were also several books and pieces of parchment on some shelves around them, apparently, from what the Fellowship could see of the book titles and drawings on the parchment, devoted solely to the subject of demons and other such magical creatures.

"Sorry about the mess," Malcolm smiled, as he picked a book off the shelves and looked back at the Fellowship, who were just standing in the centre of the room. He groaned. "Where are my manners? Please, sit down over there," he said, indicating a table near one corner of the house.

As the Fellowship took their seats, Malcolm sat down as the head of the table and opened the book, laying it down on the table so the Fellowship could see it.

It showed a few pictures of various demons, all of which the Fellowship recognised from Robin's story as being the demons that had attacked him when Sir Edward tried to recruit him into the Fellowship.

"These _are _the demons you wanted information on, correct?" Malcolm asked. "It's just that I'm prone to be absent-minded, and since I dissected the bodies a couple of days ago to find out anything else about them, I may have forgotten some of the finer points about their appearances."

"Yes, they are. Can you tell us anything about them?" the Black Arrow asked, looking curiously at the occult expert.

"Well, not that much, really," Malcolm replied, as he set the book down and looked up at the Fellowship. "These demons in question are fairly low in the demonic hierarchy; they have little actual powers beyond the strength of a well-trained fighter and the ability to absorb a great amount of damage before going down. Evidently, something is controlling these creatures, and, according to what I have heard, has created a fortress to act as a central base for their operations."

"Any ideas what could be controlling them?" the Prince asked.

"Not really," Malcolm replied. "The logical assumption would be a powerful demon, but I haven't been able to find anything currently active with the level of strength required to erect the fortress the King told me about _and _control all the demons that must be in it. After that, the only alternative is a witch or wizard, but that's not much help for you if I can't work out any weaknesses they may have..."

"That's not going to be a problem," a voice said from behind the Fellowship. "You won't survive long enough to use the information even if you _did _have it."


	7. The Fellowship in Action

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I'm running out of places to look for pictures, so I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Malcolm; he's someone from fiction going around under an alias. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some! 

Kaudrim: Glad you liked the addition of Marcus. Regarding Malcolm, he _is _someone famous from fiction, but you'll have to wait and find out who he is at a later date...

Sean Malloy-1: I'll do what I can on that front.

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

Spinning around, the Fellowship and Malcolm saw a tall figure standing in the door of the house, dressed in a long black robe with a golden circlet on its head. The figure's face couldn't be seen apart from the eyes, because the figure wore a long black robe that was pulled up over its mouth and nose. Underneath the robe, the figure wore a dark red robe, almost the colour of blood, and had two sharp silver daggers attached to its sides, along with a long wooden stick with a golden handle at one end.

Around her were six large creatures, none of which looked exactly friendly, and none of them looked completely human.

One of them looked mostly human, but it appeared to have a lion's claws and mane, coupled with a body covered in golden fur.

Another creature reminded Marcus of the Samurai warriors he'd encountered on his travels in Japan, but its skin was green, it had a few small horns on its face, a nose that looked like it had been squashed into its face, and it had a large green jewel in the centre of its forehead.

"A Mohra demon..." Malcolm whispered under his breath.

The third creature appeared to be a badly sculpted model of a man, lacking true definition around the various limbs. Its eyes were just a couple of random dots around its head, and the only things on its arms were a few claws; its only distinguishing feature was a large mouth in the centre of its chest, with some extremely nasty teeth inside it.

The fourth figure was even larger, with two long blades in place of its arms and a face that looked like a dragon's head. It was covered in scales, and, unlike the first two, was actually wearing clothes; namely, torn dark brown trousers and a ripped top of a similar colour.

The fifth creature looked rather like the first in the majority of its body, but its face and hands looked very much like a human's, except that its ears were larger and it had two long horns on the back of its head. Malcolm and Marcus recognised it as a Fyarl demon.

The sixth and final creature looked remarkably like a dog, except that its face looked remarkably like a human's; the only exceptions were its squashed-in nose and pointed ears.

"Oh crap..." Malcolm whispered, as he looked from the demons to the figure standing in the centre of them.

Robin privately agreed with that statement, but he was determined not to let his fear get the better of him. Swallowing, he walked forward, looking the black figure in the eyes.

"You know, it is considered polite to introduce yourself to new acquaintances," he said.

"Of course," the figure smiled. "I am the Demon Master, and you, I believe, are the 'Fellowship of Extraordinary Men' that has been created to stop me." The eyes underneath the robe scanned the Fellowship, and sniffed. "Pathetic."

"You haven't seen what we can do yet," Marcus said, shifting his position into a combat stance, already calculating how to get across the house and tackle one of the creatures without going too near to the windows. "Don't start thinking we can't do anything to you until you've seen us in action."

"Oh, but I _know _you can't stop me," the figure replied, sounding like it was smirking under its cloak. "Because you're going to be killed by this little group." She stepped out of the door, looking around at the demons who still stood inside the house. "Kill them."

Then a dark red cloud surrounded the figure, and she vanished.

The demons charged.

The Fellowship, with the unwilling addition of Malcolm, rose to the challenge instantly, grabbing their weapons and starting to struggle with the nearest demon. Marcus found himself trading punches with the Fyarl, Ivanhoe launched himself into a swordfight with the bladed demon, the dog-creature charged at the Black Arrow, the lion monster chose Malcolm as its target, the Prince clashed swords with the Mohra, and Robin found himself facing the demon with the large mouth.

The first true battle of the Fellowship of Extraordinary Men was on.

* * *

Recognising the large-mouthed creature from the battle back at Locksley Hall, Robin quickly went over what he remembered of the creature from Sir Edward's fight with it; it had a remarkably hard skin, but its mouth and eyes were rather tender. The eyes weren't exactly large, but, if nothing else, it gave him something to aim for with his sword.

As he lashed out towards a nearby eye and the creature blocked his swipe, he could only hope that he managed to get past this thing's defences before it got past his.

* * *

As the dog-like demon charged towards the Black Arrow, the costumed adventurer did the only thing he could think of; he ducked underneath the flying form, spun around, and fired an arrow at the creature. It struck the dog thing in one shoulder, but it didn't appear to have much of a long-term effect; the creature just pulled the arrow out, sniffed it, and then threw it aside and turned to face the Black Arrow once again.

Swearing under his breath, the Black Arrow pulled a couple of daggers off his belt and held them up in front of him. They probably weren't the best weapons to use when you were fighting a creature from hell itself, but he didn't have any other options right now.

He just hoped that one of the other members of the Fellowship would get involved before things got too bad.

* * *

After trading a couple of blows with the bladed demon, Ivanhoe somehow ended up with his back to Malcolm, who was defending himself against the attacks of the lion-like demon with two unusual, three-pronged daggers.

"Interesting swords!" he called back to his new acquaintance, as he parried blows from his own demon opponent.

"Thanks!" Malcolm replied, as he finally managed to land a blow on his opponent, scratching the lion-thing on its left arm. "They're sai daggers from Japan; I brought them home with me after I spent a while studying Japanese magic there some years ago!"

"Right then," Ivanhoe said, as he narrowly managed to avoid getting his head taken off by one of his opponent's blades. "Well, if you can come up with something that will allow us to stop these things as soon as possible, I would be _very_ grateful."

"I'm trying!" Malcolm replied, as he slashed one of the lion-creature's arms with one of his daggers. "But these things aren't going to go down easily, you know!"

Ivanhoe swore and kicked out at his opponent's knee, knocking it off-balance for a few brief moments; not enough to win the fight, but enough to buy Ivanhoe some breathing space.

If they didn't get this fight out of Malcolm's house and into somewhere with more room to manoeuvre, the Fellowship wouldn't survive this fight.

* * *

Marcus launched the first punch in his fight with the Fyarl demon, but it was so powerful that he might as well have tapped it on the shoulder, for all the effect he had. When the Fyarl launched a punch of its own at Marcus, the vampire barely managed to catch the creature's fist before it hit him in the face; he may not have been able to do much damage to this sucker, but he was prepared to bet that it would be able to hurt _him_.

He couldn't afford to take any injuries right now. The odds were already stacked against the Fellowship; he couldn't afford to let them lose their strongest member, no matter how briefly.

He continued to desperately punch and kick away at his opponent, hoping and praying that he'd come up with a strategy to stop it before he got himself killed for good.

* * *

The Prince slashed and ducked as he struggled with the Mohra, trying to land a blow on his demonic opponent without taking a blow himself. Whatever this thing was, it was definitely powerful, and it appeared to have a great deal of experience in the art of the sword. Plus, whenever he actually succeeding in landing a blow on the creature, its wounds seemed to heal before the Mohra had even noticed them.

_How can I stop something that can heal so fast it doesn't notice my most damaging moves?_ the Prince asked himself, as he barely managed to parry one of the creature's sword blows in the nick of time.

He sighed, deciding it was time he used one of his extra powers. He didn't like using them- without the Sands, he was forced to rely upon his own life energies to fuel his powers, and it constantly left him far weaker than he had been earlier- but, right now, he had no choice.

Whipping out a dagger from his belt, he lunged towards his opponent, stabbing the demon right in one shoulder. There was a brief flash, and instantly the Mohra demon had stopped moving, surrounded by a thin white layer that made it look like it was covered in sand.

The Prince smiled at the still form in front of him. Then he raised his sword and swung it towards the large jewel in the centre of the creature's forehead, breaking it with one blow.

The Mohra screamed, clutched at its forehead as the shattered jewel started to glow red, and then the demon fell apart, dissolving as though it had never been.

Smiling, the Prince quickly looked around the house at the other members of the Fellowship. After only a couple of seconds, he decided that, although they all appeared to need some help, Marcus would be the best candidate; with him available to help the others take down their opponents, this fight would be over in a matter of moments.

No sooner had that thought occurred to him, the Prince was running towards the Fyarl demon, his sword drawn, his subconscious mind already slowing down the flow of time in his immediate vicinity...

* * *

Even with his vampire reflexes, Marcus would never be entirely certain what had happened to the Fyarl demon. One moment he was trying to beat it down with brute strength (A futile gesture, particularly when taking into account that only a weapon made of silver could kill a Fyarl), and then the creature was lying on its face, a sword in its shoulder, and the Prince's foot on its head.

The Prince looked at Marcus, an inquiring expression on his face. "Any ideas what we use to kill this thing?" he asked.

"Something silver should do it," Marcus replied, the Prince leaping off to one side as the Fyarl started to regain its footing. "Do you have anything like that on you?"

"Just this," the Prince replied, pulling a small dagger out of a sheath on his side and passing it to Marcus. "Your cue, I believe?"

"Right," Marcus smiled, taking the dagger in his hands, steadying it in his right hand, and throwing it at the Fyarl just as it got back onto its feet. A throw like that could have hit the Black Arrow if thrown a second too early or too late, but Marcus's vampiric reflexes let him time the toss to exactly the right moment.

The dagger struck the Fyarl demon in the throat, and it fell to the ground, gargling as it died.

Marcus looked over at the Prince and nodded briefly at his new friend. "Thank you," he said simply.

"Any time," the Prince replied. "It is for moments like this that I feel grateful for my time powers."

He smiled briefly at Marcus, then his face hardened as he glanced around the house; the other members of the Fellowship had managed to drive their opponents to outside the house, which at least gave them more room to manoeuvre in a fight, but had the disadvantage for the Fellowship of rendering Marcus useless.

Marcus looked briefly out the door at the struggling Fellowship members, and then looked back towards the Prince.

"Can you slow time down for me as well as for you?" he asked, as he pulled his cloak on over his head.

The Prince thought for a few seconds, and then slowly nodded.

"I could, but it will not easy," he said, looking pointedly at Marcus. "I shall be drawing the power to slow time from your own life energy, so you may feel a bit weak for a while after this; in fact, I cannot absolutely guarantee that it may not drain more energy from you than it does from me, since I am more used to this than you."

Marcus shook his head. "The concern is appreciated, but we have no other options," he said simply. "If we don't take these creatures out, the Fellowship will fall, and that cannot be allowed to happen."

The Prince nodded, placed his hand on Marcus' shoulder, and focused.

Instantly, the demons and the other Fellowship members froze in place, none of them even blinking or breathing.

Marcus nodded at the Prince. "Impressive," he said, "Would you care to explain how you can do this?"

"Later," the Prince said. "Right now, we have to move fast; this won't keep them immobilized for long, and I doubt you want to be out in the sun when its rays start to affect you."

"Right," Marcus said, scanning the demons for where he'd be of the most help. He quickly selected his target; the bladed demon that was attacking Ivanhoe. If he could immobilise that one, not only was the fact that, as a knight, Ivanhoe was the member of the Fellowship best equipped to help the others handle their foes, but the demons would lose one of their side's hardest hitters. If that didn't give them a blow to their confidences, nothing would.

Marcus pointed at the bladed demon. Nodding, the Prince and Marcus charged towards it, tackling the creature to the ground as the Prince raised his sword.

Marcus stepped back, his hand still on the Prince's shoulder to keep himself in this frozen moment in time, and broke one of the creature's blades in half. At the same time, the Prince lashed out with his sword, slashing the creature's repulsive excuse of a throat apart. Although no blood came out of it, the wound would obviously kill the demon when time restarted.

_And on that topic..._the Prince thought, as he looked over towards Marcus.

"We need to get you inside, now," he said. "Time won't remain frozen for much longer, and you'll be a lot harder to carry if you're bursting into flames in the process."

Marcus simply nodded. The two of them scrambled to their feet and ran back towards the house, Marcus breaking contact with the Prince when he was only a few feet away from the door.

Then everything happened at once.

Marcus landed at the door of Malcolm's house.

The Prince appeared beside Robin, already starting to hack away at the demon facing them both as Robin did the same.

Ivanhoe, realising he was now free from the bother of his foe, glanced around briefly and dived towards the Black Arrow and his dog-like opponent.

And Malcolm continued his struggle with the lion demon, apparently not even noticing that Ivanhoe's foe was down for the count.

* * *

Realising that Malcolm was going to need some help if he'd have any kind of chance against the lion creature, Marcus quickly glanced around the house for something he could throw at the creature. If he could just distract the creature for a few seconds with some kind of weapon, it might be long enough for Malcolm to get his much-needed advantage in his fight with the creature...

His eyes fell on a small knife lying on a table near him.

Quickly, Marcus grabbed the knife, aimed, and threw it at the creature, striking it directly in the left shoulder. The creature let out a brief squeal of pain, allowing Malcolm to stab one of his sais into its mouth, up by a few degrees...

And through its brain.

* * *

As the creature fell to the ground, Malcolm glanced around at the members of the Fellowship, and noted that all their foes had fallen as well. The demons were tough enough in a one-on-one, but pit two of them against one demon and it was strictly no contest. The Prince had managed to wound the large-mouthed demon so badly that it (Literally) screamed, giving Robin the chance he needed to get an arrow and fire it into the creature's mouth.

As for the dog-like creature, it hadn't had much of a chance against Ivanhoe's sword and the Black Arrow's trademark weapons. No matter where it went, one of the weapons could still hit it.

Robin looked around at the Fellowship, and nodded his approval.

"Good work," he said, before looking over in Marcus's direction. "How are you?"

"Well, thank you," Marcus replied. "Particularly thanks to the Prince..." He paused and looked over in the Prince's direction. "How can you do that anyway?" he asked.

"Do what?" the Black Arrow asked, looking over in the Prince's direction. "What did you do?"

The Prince shrugged. "I froze time for all of you but myself and Marcus," he said, indicating the fallen form of the bladed demon. "We cut its throat, and then I got Marcus out of the sun before I went over to help Robin."

Ivanhoe blinked. "You... froze time?" he said, baffled. "I thought you said you gave up the Dagger of Time?"

"I did," the Prince replied. "However, contact with the dagger for so long tainted me in some way. For reasons I still do not fully understand, I am still capable of manipulating the fabric of time to some extent, although constant use of it weakens me. Therefore, I shall only use it when I have no other option, otherwise I'm in no shape to help anyone."

Robin nodded at the Prince. "A sensible belief," he said to his new friend. "We shall ensure that you are not pressured to use your power except in dire need, do not fear that." Then he looked over at Malcolm. "Do you have any plans for the immediate future?"

Malcolm blinked. "No, nothing is arranged for me any time soon. Why do you ask?"

"Because, if you're interested, there is a place in the Fellowship of Extraordinary Men for you," Robin said.

Malcolm stared in surprise.

"Wh-what?" he asked, almost unable to believe what he'd heard. "You... you want _me _to join the Fellowship?"

"Why not?" Robin replied. "Your knowledge of the occult cannot fail to be useful, and you appear perfectly capable of handling yourself in a fight. I am sure we would be honoured if you would join us."

Malcolm looked around at the rest of the Fellowship, and watched as they all nodded their approval at Robin's suggestion. He looked back at Robin, and nodded.

"I'm in."

Robin smiled. "Excellent." He looked around at the other Fellowship members. "Let's go; we have an appointment with some demons, and I, for one, don't want to be late."


	8. Plans and Mysteries

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I'm running out of places to look for pictures, so I ma be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Malcolm; he's someone from fiction going around under an alias. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some! 

Funky in Fishnet: Thanks for the compliment about the fight scene, but, on the subject of Marcus, you don't need to worry about having seen Underworld; he was mentioned, but never seen, so I'm just improvising his character. I assure you, I will reveal Malcolm's identity when the time comes, but you've still got a while to wait...

Sean Malloy-1: Oh, you'll have to wait and see on that front. As Clez once said; 'It would be a HUGE spoiler if I gave anything away...'...

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

In the centre of the fortress, the Demon Master sat on a massive throne, and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. Off to one side of the throne, a large cauldron was slowly bubbling, filled to the brim with a glowing green fluid that occasionally turned red. Originally, the potion had only turned red for a few moments at a time, but now, the Master was pleased to note, it was remaining red for a few minutes every time it changed. It was growing every more potent.

Soon, it would be ready for the purpose that it had been made for.

And then...

The Demon Master smiled underneath the long cloak that covered his face.

His objective would soon be achieved.

And the only obstacles to his achievement of his ultimate destiny- the so-called 'Fellowship of Extraordinary Men'- would soon be dead...

Just then, a loud knocking on the door to his room broke his line of thought.

"Enter," he said, waving one arm.

The door opened, and a small figure walked into the room

The Demon Master recognised it instantly; it was Gachnar, the Demon of Fear, one of his most loyal and powerful soldiers. However, his loyalty and power failed to make up for what, in the Master's opinion, would have earned any other demon death.

He was only six inches high.

As a result, he naturally lacked any great physical strength when it came to actual one-on-one combat, and was mostly kept around due to his efficiency as a spy and his ability to keep the Master's foes off- balance.

"Yes?" the Master asked, looking down at the tiny demon.

"I thought you should know," Gachnar said, in his customary squeaky voice, "the Fellowship have defeated the demons you deployed against them."

"WHAT?!" the Master bellowed, standing up so suddenly that his waving cloak knocked Gachnar over. "How? NONE of them could have lasted against their opponents by themselves for a great length of time, let alone defeat them!"

* * *

Gachnar blinked; he, like the other demons in this army, hated giving the Master bad news. "I-it was the man they call 'the Prince', Master," he said, shaking so badly he felt like he'd accidentally turned his own power onto himself. "It w-would appear that his past powers to manipulate time have remained with him, even though he has sacrificed the Dagger of Time. As far as I can tell, he f-froze the Mohra demon long enough to destroy its g-gem, and then aided the vampire in stopping the Fyarl..." His voice trailed off, leaving the Master to finish the sentence; Gachnar was too afraid to say anything else.

"And then the Prince and the vampire aided the rest of their Fellowship in defeating my demons," the Master said simply. Gachnar nodded, even though it wasn't really a question the Master had asked him; he'd simply been stating a fact.

The Master looked down at Gachnar again. "I assume the bug has been planted?"

"Oh yes," Gachnar said, relieved that he had at least _that _bit of good news for his master. "We now have a means of discovering all the attack plans of the Fellowship of Extraordinary Men, and they don't even know it."

"Perfect," the Master said, his eyes gleaming under his robes. "Keep me informed of their progress. You may go now."

Gachnar nodded, and walked out of the room.

The Demon Master grinned again. The Fellowship were not defeated yet, but, with his wolf set among their sheep, they would fall quickly enough when it came to the final battle...

* * *

"So, how do you know all those combat skills, Malcolm?" Robin asked, looking over at the unexpected addition to the Fellowship as they started to ride once again. At the moment, Marcus was sleeping under a bench in the cart while the Black Arrow drove the Fellowship to their next destination, giving the Fellowship the chance to talk with their newest member.

"Well, you tend to pick things up when you're dealing with demons on a regular basis," Malcolm shrugged, as he sat back in the cart and looked at his new friends. "I quickly realised that, while I want to learn about demons peacefully, not all demons are as interested in my good health as I am in theirs. I started learning al the martial arts I could while I travelled the world, and am now a master at many forms of unarmed combat."

"Intriguing," the Prince said, looking at Malcolm curiously. "I have to admit, I wouldn't mind seeing what you can do in a sword fight myself. When we next stop, what do you say to us having a fight for practice?"

Malcolm smiled. "I would enjoy that," he said simply. He looked over at Robin. "Maybe you and the Black Arrow could have a similar contest when we stop; it might be interesting to see how you two compare to each other."

Robin nodded thoughtfully. "Yes... an interesting suggestion, certainly," he commented. Then he shrugged. "However, we have more pressing concerns at the moment; namely, having witnessed the sort of demons we shall be fighting on this mission, do we stand a chance of defeating an entire army of them by ourselves?"

"Oh, we should manage the actual battle well enough," Ivanhoe commented, looking around at the others. "The way I see it, in all our fights with the demons to date, they have had the advantage in that they have known where we were, and they have always started the attack before we can come up with an effective strategy. However, when we attack the fortress, there shall be a crucial difference; even if they have guessed we might have won our last fight, they cannot be certain when we shall arrive at the fortress. If nothing else, we shall have the element of surprise available to us when we attack, and that can count for a great deal, as I have learned myself."

"Indeed," Robin nodded thoughtfully, as he looked around at the various weapons in the cart, already subconsciously picking out which weapons to use in the upcoming attack on the fortress. Then he looked down at where Marcus was lying on the ground. "Well, we should probably follow Marcus's advice and get some sleep; we have a two day journey ahead of us to get to the fortress, and we would probably be best getting in some practice when Marcus can work with us."

"A fair statement," Malcolm said. "But what about the Black Arrow?"

"Oh, I've told him to let me know when he gets tired of driving us," Ivanhoe smiled. "I'll take over later on, and he can have a rest himself at that time."

"Perfect," the Prince said, as he lay back against the wall of the cart and closed his eyes. "Wake me when it's time for our practicing," he said, before he turned his head away from the other Fellowship members and tried to get comfortable in the cart.

Looking around at the rest of the Fellowship, Robin nodded.

"Follow his example," he said simply. "Ivanhoe, when the sun goes down, wake us up. We have to get in as much practice in working together as we can. Understood?"

"Understood," Ivanhoe nodded, before the rest of the Fellowship, obeying Robin's advice, closed their eyes, and fell asleep shortly afterwards.

* * *

_The Prince blinked as he saw the scene in front of him._

_Once again, it was the aftermath of the final battle of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Why was he dreaming of this? He knew that it must have some kind of relevance to the current crisis, but what kind of connection would there be between the final days of the most legendary king Britain had ever known and an army of attacking demons?_

_He didn't know, but he was sure that he knew where the answer lay..._

_In the centre of the field, where the wounded man in black armour lay in pain on the ground. There was nothing else in the field which could have even the remotest connection with their crisis; nobody else appeared to be even moving, apart from Sir Bedevere, and the Prince doubted that a former knight of this noble order would be involved in summoning demons._

_Walking towards the fallen knight, he watched as the knight groaned and clutched his side through his armour. However, the Prince still couldn't see the man's face; his visor was so thin that he couldn't even see what colour the man's eyes were. _

_Then, to the Prince's surprise, a large vortex suddenly appeared in the air beside the knight; a glowing blue swirl in the air that didn't appear to be being generated by anything. As he stared at the vortex, a tall figure wearing a long, dark blue robe leapt out of the vortex, landing on its feet directly beside the knight._

_The figure crouched down beside the knight, and stared at him with an almost pitying look in its eyes. However, the Prince couldn't be sure of that, because the figure in blue was dressed almost exactly like the Demon Master in every regard; the only difference was that this figure was wearing blue robes, whereas the Demon Master had favoured an all-black costume. _

"_Mordred?" the figure said, reaching out one hand to tenderly touch the wounded knight on the shoulder. "Mordred, how are you feeling?"_

_The Prince's breathe caught in his throat. _

Mordred...

_He _knew _that name. He knew that a Mordred had played a fatal role in the history of King Arthur and his Knights, but what had that role been again..._

_Then he remembered._

_Mordred had been the son of Morgraine LeFay, King Arthur's half-sister by his mother and her previous husband. Hating her half-brother, Morgraine had trained to become a powerful witch, and had even made arrangements that had led to Arthur becoming the father of her son, Mordred._

_(At least according to some versions of the legend; others had Arthur being Mordred's father and his mother being some other woman whose name the Prince couldn't remember at the moment.)_

_But even if Morgraine LeFay being a witch gave the Prince a plausible motive for having these dreams (Morgraine being a magic user did suggest she would be able to control the demons), how could she still be alive today? Even if her magic gave her an extended life span, according to most versions of the legend he'd heard, she'd given her life to destroy the Knights of the Round Table, by making a knight draw his sword against her when Arthur's forces were having a fragile truce with Mordred's forces. _

_How could she still be alive?_

_And more importantly, if she _had _survived the final battle, why would she have waited until now to actually _do _anything?_

_He walked towards Mordred and the robed figure, desperate to see if he could learn anything more about them if he could see them better..._

* * *

He looked up into the face of Robin Hood, who had one arm on his shoulder as though he'd been shaking him.

"It's time for us to begin our practice," he said simply.

The Prince nodded and stood up, but inwardly he was cursing his new friend's ill timing. A few more seconds and he might have been able to see more of Mordred and the robed figure...

_But that will have to wait_, he thought to himself, as he pulled out his sword and leapt out of the cart, looking around at the rest of the Fellowship as they stood, scattered around a moonlit field. Right now, they had to begin their practice.


	9. The Knight and the Vampire

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I'm running out of places to look for pictures, so I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Malcolm; he's someone from fiction going around under an alias. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

**Funky in Fishnet:** Thanks for your compliment about the Prince's dreams; I wasn't sure if they'd work out or not, so I'm glad to see they're paying off. And regarding the Malcolm thing, nice guess, but don't be TOO eager to suspect him; remember, not all demons are human size... Plus, what about shapeshifters? Who's to say one of the other members of the Fellowship isn't what they appear to be?

**Sean Malloy-1:** I can't tell you that. Sorry; you'll find out when the time comes.

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

"Ouch..." Marcus winced, his hand flinching away from a bleeding shoulder where Ivanhoe had struck him. He looked up at the knight with a new respect in his eyes. "You're good. I haven't taken a blow like that from a human in centuries."

Ivanhoe smiled. "Thanks for the compliment," he replied. "I do the best I- wait, did you say _centuries_?!" he asked, his ears finally processing what he'd just been told. "How old are you?"

Marcus smiled. "About five or six centuries old," he explained. "I was born a vampire, rather than being turned, and aged fairly normally up until I reached my current physical appearance. I've been training for combat situations ever since, which is the reason I was so surprised at your managing to strike me; after almost five centuries, it's rare that I meet an opponent who knows a trick I don't."

Ivanhoe grinned. "Well, good to know I can still surprise someone with your experience," he said, as he put his sword back into its scabbard and shook Marcus's hand. He glanced around at the others. "I just wish we could be sure of everyone's abilities when it comes to fighting demons..."

Marcus nodded as he looked around at the other Fellowship members. They were doing a good job in practicing with their own talents, but there was always a nagging doubt that they would manage to hold their own when it came down to the final showdown between them and the forces of the Demon Master.

However, they weren't letting any nagging doubts stop them from trying their best. Robin and the Black Arrow were working on their archery together, and managing to match each other for distance and force of impact so far, while the Prince was exchanging sword blows with Malcolm in a test fight, in a similar situation to Robin and the Black Arrow in that, so far, neither one was proving to be the other's superior in any definite way.

Marcus shook his head and smiled as he and Ivanhoe watched their fellow four members struggle to outdo each other in some way.

Ivanhoe glanced over at the vampire. "What's the joke?" he asked casually.

"Nothing, really," Marcus replied. He then sighed. "It's just... I've missed moments like this."

"Like what?" Ivanhoe asked.

"Being able to just... go around with some acquaintances," Marcus said, looking back at the knight he was already starting to think of as a friend. "As an Elder of the vampires of the world, I rarely get the opportunity to go out on my own; I'm normally surrounding by bodyguards, being constantly bothered by affairs of state or something similar. I think this is possibly the first time I've been the only vampire within several miles in... well, ages." He smiled at Ivanhoe. "It's nice to have some time away from all that."

"I know what you mean," Ivanhoe commented. "As a knight, I'm not exactly regularly bothered by bodyguards myself, but I occasionally have to work in armies to help carry out my tasks. It may be unusual in a knight, but I've never been one for getting involved in large-scale conflicts; I prefer something where I have few people to keep an eye on while I'm fighting." He chuckled briefly. "And half the time I'm not even in charge of the mission we're on; I'm just one of many." He looked over at Marcus. "Does that even make sense?"

"Yes," Marcus nodded, turning to face Ivanhoe as he finally slid his sword back into its scabbard. "You have a great sense of responsibility, Ivanhoe. It is one of the many commendable things that makes you remarkable enough to be included on this team. There is nothing wrong with that."

Ivanhoe smiled briefly at the vampire. "Thank you," he said, nodding at the vampire. Then he drew out his sword and raised it in a combat position in front of him. "On guard?"

Marcus smiled. "Indubitably," he said, as he pulled out his own blade.

A slight nod was exchanged between the two, and then the duel was on again.

* * *

Far away, in his vast fortress, the Demon Master cackled as he watched the Fellowship struggle through the eyes of his mole.

_This_ is _fun_, he thought to himself, as he watched the Black Arrow and Robin shake hands to congratulate each other on a couple of well-aimed shots, while the other Fellowship members traded sword blows. _Whatever they practice, I will know, and they have no idea of the danger in their midst._

Chuckling, he lay back in his seat, and stared ahead of himself at his glowing crystal ball. _When they arrive tomorrow, I shall be ready for them..._

* * *

AN: I'm AWARE that this is short; think of it as a scene filler for the rest of the stuff. Anyway, enjoy; in the next chapter, things _really _start to get interesting, as the Fellowship arrive at the mysterious fortress, to face the wrath of the Demon Master...


	10. Penetration and Deception

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I'm running out of places to look for pictures, so I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Malcolm; he's someone from fiction going around under an alias. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

**Sean Malloy-1:** As you can see, I've updated everything.

**Funky in Fishnet:** Sorry about the confusion, but I kind of _have _to do it. Where's the fun in letting everything out all at once?

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

_The Prince stared out at the scene in front of him._

_It was the final battle of King Arthur once again. The stench of blood, the fallen knights, the broken weapons..._

_They were clearer than they'd ever been before._

_And there, in front of him, the fallen knight in black armour (_Mordred_), alongside the tall robed figure from last time..._

_Who _was _he? _

_Was he the Demon Master? _

_And if so, how could he have survived for this long?_

"_You have failed, Mordred," the robed figure said, as the injured knight looked up at the figure, his face concealed behind his helmet. "You thought you could defeat Arthur here, on the field of battle, with nothing more than human soldiers. You were wrong."_

"_Yes," Mordred said, nodding slightly in his armour, clutching his side as a brief spasm of pain passed through his wound. "I acknowledge that. And I also acknowledge my punishment." He appeared to bow his head slightly in his helmet. "Do as you will with me." _

_The figure raised its arm, stared at Mordred for a few seconds, and then lowered the arm again. _

"_No," it said simply. "I shall not destroy you. You have failed me now, but I sense that you will prove invaluable to me in the future."_

"_In what way?" Mordred asked, looking at the figure with renewed interest. _

"_We have failed to conquer Arthur using purely human means," the figure explained, as it raised one hand and began to wave in the air. As the Prince watched, a strange, shimmering hole formed in the air, through which the Prince could see brief glimpses of flames. "Therefore, I believe it would be more practical to devote our energies to taking control of a more powerful force to crush this kingdom of his."_

"_Demons?" Mordred said, looking at the robed figure in shock. "But the magical energy required to control them is..."_

"_A lot, I know," the figure said, as it rose back onto its feet and began to wave its arms, causing the portal to expand and grow as the Prince watched it. "It shall take some time to summon magic of that power, but I am prepared to wait."_

"_But you'll... you'll..." Mordred said, apparently reluctant to continue._

"_Never live that long?" the figure asked, looking back at Mordred._

_To the Prince's surprise, the figure almost appeared to be smiling. _

"_I am aware of that fact, Mordred," the figure said, as its eyes sparkled with a glam that boded ill for anyone who got in this... _thing's _way._

_Because, as far as its soul was concerned, it was evidently not human. _

"_Which is why you and I shall gather our power in here, where time flows at a slower rate than in the real world," the figure explained. Then its eyes lost their eager gleam as they stared Mordred in the eyes. "I _shall _rule, Mordred. Do not doubt it. And you shall rule by my side." _

"_Of course," Mordred said, as he slowly staggered to his feet and removed his helmet, revealing a shock of black hair. "I would have it no other way."_

_And, as Mordred and the robed figure (_The Demon Master_, as the Prince finally realised it must be) stepped into the portal, the Prince found his perspective of them shifting, so that he could now just see Mordred's face. _

_The ear._

_The cheek._

_The..._

* * *

The Prince blinked.

He was looking at Robin's face.

"We're there," the ex-outlaw said to the former nobleman. "Everyone else is waiting outside the cart, but you appear to be sleeping in a lot for some reason."

"Yes, I apologise about that," the Prince said, as he stood up and grabbed his sword. "It's one of the side effects of my condition; I occasionally have visions that are connected to any dangerous situations I find myself it."

"Really?" Robin said, his curiosity overriding his haste to complete their mission. "What have you been seeing? Anything that could be of use to us?"

"Well..." the Prince started to say, but hesitated. Should he explain that he was having visions about the final fight of King Arthur when he didn't even know anything useful from them? He didn't even know who the Demon Master was; was it really worth worrying the other Fellowship members about them until he knew anything else?

"Nothing," he sighed. "The images are too fast for me to process them properly. I could maybe process them if given enough time, but-"

"Time is a luxury we lack, unfortunately," Robin sighed. He looked back outside the cart, sighed, and glanced back at the Prince. "We'll just have to hope that your visions don't include anything that could prove potentially vital in the short term. Come on."

* * *

Outside the cart, the Prince was pleased to see that Marcus, Ivanhoe, Malcolm, and the Black Arrow were all prepared to fight. Each of them had grabbed several weapons from the boxes the Fellowship had found in the cart, and were armed to the teeth. Ivanhoe and Malcolm were in suits of armour, shields on their arms, and swords and daggers hanging on their sides. Marcus and the Black Arrow, however, had ignored the armour, being used to fighting without it, and had instead simply picked up some longbows, arrows, and daggers and swords.

"Ah, you're here," Marcus said, looking over at the Prince with a grin on his face. The sun was setting, but Marcus was safe enough for the remaining hour or so it would be up; he'd positioned himself under a nearby tall tree, and was sitting casually in the shadow as he looked over at the other Fellowship members. "Tell me, will you be wearing armour for this fight, or will you just be going in with your own skin as defence?"

"The second one," the Prince replied. "I was never much of a man for armour; I find it too cumbersome for my combat tastes."

"Fair enough," Robin shrugged, as he reached down and grabbed a quiver of arrows and slung them over his shoulder, followed by a longbow, sword and a couple of daggers. "I agree with that statement; I have always relied more on my wits and skills to keep me alive than any armour. Besides, who is to say these demons will be very heavily armoured anyway?"

"They'll still be remarkably strong," Malcolm put in from where he was taking a couple of practice swipes with his sword. "Remember that detail; whatever else they are, demons are, traditionally, capable of doing a great deal of damage when it comes to hand-to-hand combat."

"Then we'll have to ensure it doesn't come to that," Ivanhoe said, as he pulled his blade out of his scabbard and held it up in front of him, as though checking it for imperfections. "Marcus will be able to handle himself at close quarters, and the Prince's time-bending skills may give him an edge, but the rest of us... we shall have a bit of a problem."

"Relax, Ivanhoe," the Black Arrow smiled, as he pulled an arrow out of his quiver and looked at it. "You forget, Robin and I are two of the best archers of our time, even in darkness. If anyone can stop some of these demons before they reach us, we can."

"Besides," Marcus added, from where he sat under the tree, "I'm no slouch when it comes to archery myself. If nothing else, my night vision and natural hand-eye coordination should help us turn the numbers in out favour."

"Good," the Prince said, before turning to Robin. "What is the plan of attack?"

"Follow me," Robin said, as he turned around and walked towards a small cluster of trees a few metres away from the cart. The Prince followed him, walking through the trees for a few seconds...

And then stopping short at the sight in front of him.

It was a large tower, larger than any he had ever seen on his travels. It had several narrow slits all over it, a remarkably large and sturdy-looking wooden door at the bottom of it, and several smaller towers around the top of it. The Prince could just make out several robed figures standing around the top of the tower, but in the fading light it was hard to be really sure of anything.

"The fortress?" he asked Robin, out of the corner of his mouth.

"The same," Robin replied, as they walked back into the trees and stood there, out of sight of the fortress's inhabitants. "Our current plan of attack is simple; we sneak in as close as we can to the fortress without getting seen, and then you freeze time for us while we get in closer. Once there, Marcus, whose abilities apparently include a certain talent for climbing walls like those of this fortress, will head up to the top of one of the less obvious towers, take down any immediate resistance he may encounter, and then throw a rope down for the rest of us. From there, we shall endeavour to track down the Demon Master's room, and then neutralise him. Marcus and Malcolm are of the opinion that, without him to coordinate them, the demons shall leave this dimension, and never bother us again- or, at least, not for a very long while."

"Ah," the Prince said, nodding his approval as he listened to the plan. "A good plan, Robin. I may have some difficulty in holding time still for the length that shall be required, but I shall do what I can." He paused briefly. "Just... allow me some time to rest afterwards, please?"

"Of course," Robin nodded. "We shall be sure to keep your limitations in mind." He looked back at the sky. "We'd better get moving; the sun shall be setting soon, and I want to go over things with the others one last time."

He looked back at the Prince. "The world's fate is in our hands. We must stand together, or fall apart."

"Agreed," the Prince said, as he held out one hand. Robin shook it, and then the two of them turned back to join the other members of the Fellowship.

The battle would soon begin...

* * *

That night, all was quiet around the fortress. The demons that dwelt within it were not very alert at the best of times, due to their belief that nobody would attack them at the heart of their operations, and thus it was an easy task for the six figures on the nearby hill to sneak down to the bottom of the hill without anyone seeing them.

Marcus, with the keenest vision of all the Fellowship, glanced around at their surroundings, and then looked back at the other Fellowship members.

"All clear," he whispered.

"Excellent," Robin said, as he looked over at the Prince. "It is all up to you now."

The Prince nodded, reached out, and grabbed Robin and Ivanhoe by the shoulders. On a pre-arranged decision, the two of them reach out and grabbed Malcolm and Marcus by the shoulders, leaving the Black Arrow to put his hand on the Prince's shoulder and hold on.

Swallowing his fear at what he was about to attempt, the Prince focused briefly, and transmitted himself and the other Fellowship members into that frozen state outside of time, where he and only he had dominion. He hated taking others along, mainly because he always drained a small amount of their life energy when he used his powers, but he had no choice right now.

He just had to make this quick.

"Go!" he yelled at the other Fellowship members. "Hurry, before we get too weak!"

Responding to his command at once, the Fellowship charged towards the tower. Even though all of time was frozen, even though they only took two minutes at most to reach the tower that was their target...

To the Prince, it felt like a lifetime.

Finally, he reached the bottom of the tower and was able to break the hold he'd been maintaining on reality for the Fellowship. Gasping for breath, he slumped to the ground, supported only by the willing shoulders of Robin and Ivanhoe, despite them both looking a bit pale themselves.

The Prince looked over at Robin, and smiled weakly.

"That... was... interesting..." he gasped.

"Indeed," Robin nodded at his teammate. "Do us a favour; ensure we _never _use that means of getting into somewhere secret again unless it is a matter of life and death, do you understand?"

"Crystal..." the Prince smiled.

"Good," Ivanhoe said, as he glanced over at Marcus. "Are you capable of climbing the wall yet?"

* * *

Marcus looked up the tall tower in front of them, and the window that was a hundred or so feet above them, and grinned.

"Naturally," he said, as he took off his boots and stuffed them into his pockets. "You forget that I have a great deal more life energy than the rest of you; a drain that would leave you all weak for a few minutes will do no more than leave me feeling dizzy for a few seconds." He walked towards the wall, placed his hands in a couple of niches between the bricks, and looked back at the other Fellowship members.

"Wait here," he grinned. "I'll be back."

And he leapt up the wall, climbing it with a speed and dexterity that made him appear to be more of a spider than the bat that his kind would come to be associated with.

Reaching the window, he slowly sneaked his eyes over the edge of the sill, relieved that the window was wide enough to accommodate the Fellowship members; he hadn't been sure it would be as wide as it had looked from the ground. He also noted, with a certain amount of relief, that there was only a couple of Brachen demons inside the main corridor; fairly powerful physically, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Leaping through the window, he drew his sword as he landed on the floor, whistling a little to attract the Brachen's attention.

"Excuse me," he said, the sword down by his side as he leaned on it like a stick, "Could you direct me to the Demon Master, or do I have to get nasty with you?"

The Brachens growled and raised their arms, the sharp spines covering their faces glinting briefly in the moonlight.

"Ah well," Marcus sighed. "Let's get this little mess over with."

He drew the sword, held it out in front of him, and leapt towards the Brachens with a gleam in his eyes. Before they could do anything, Marcus launched forward, the sword swiping out at the nearest Brachen in a blow that would have taken its head off if it hadn't knocked the blade aside with a well-timed punch.

Compensating for the shift, Marcus dropped the sword, grabbed the daggers that hung on his belt, and lashed out in a spinning swipe he'd perfected a few years ago, during a period where he'd fought in the crusades and saved King Richard's life. The daggers weren't as damaging to the Brachens as they could have been- as good as Marcus was, these demons were still pretty agile- but he still managed to scratch them.

Leaping up into the air as one of the Brachens launched a punch at his chest, Marcus drove the left dagger down into the shoulder of the nearest demon, keeping it in as he leapt to increase the damage delivered. The Brachen screamed as the blade tore through muscle, the blade only leaving when Marcus had landed back on the ground. Before it could react, Marcus drove the blade directly into its back, twisting sharply as he tore through the Brachen's spine, following it up with a powerful kick in the neck.

Cut off in mid-scream, the Brachen collapsed to the ground, blood leaking from its mouth as it lay. Even with the Brachen's natural abilities to survive broken necks, it hadn't been able to survive Marcus's last kick on top of the dagger in its back.

"Vermin!" the other Brachen yelled at Marcus, as it looked up at him from the fallen body of its comrade. "You've killed one of my own kin!"

"I'm vermin?" Marcus asked, slightly amused at the comment. "A bit rich coming from you, wouldn't you say? The last time I checked, your kind were generally fairly happy with the world the way it is; why are you working with someone like the Demon Master?"

"Key word there, blood; _generally_," the Brachen stated, as it began to move around Marcus, flexing its fingers eagerly in anticipation of the upcoming battle. "I and a few associates of mine are rather _opposed _to the general view of the world's current situation; we'd prefer to be the ones in charge of it all."

"Oh god..." Marcus groaned, rolling his eyes in exasperation...

... Only to find himself pinned to the wall, the Brachen's hands at his throat, it having moved at such remarkable speed it had actually managed to catch him off-guard.

The Brachen grinned. "Foolish, leech," it smirked at him. "You should never underestimate the pure demons in this world, no matter what superiority you may feel you have over them."

"Another... point..." Marcus gasped, as he felt the Brachen's hand start to squeeze his throat.

"Yes?" the Brachen asked mockingly.

Instantly, Marcus forced his legs upwards, his knees ramming into the Brachen's chin with a force that was every bit as devastating as a punch would have been. As the Brachen staggered back, Marcus landed on the ground in a crouch and slashed at the demon's legs with his daggers, cutting through its right Achilles tendon with one dagger and swiping the other through the Brachen's chest before it could react.

As its guts tumbled out of its chest, the Brachen looked at Marcus as though it couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Then its eyes rolled up and it collapsed to the floor, leaving Marcus with its small intestine unfortunately draped over his head.

Standing up, Marcus raised one hand to his head, picked the draping gut out of his hair, and looked at it in disdain. Then he threw it to the ground, kicked them over towards the rest of the Brachen's innards, and glanced over at the corpse.

"_Never_ leave your opponent with any available limbs," he said simply.

Then he grabbed the rope that had been hanging from his shoulder, looped it around his arm, and threw it out of the window. He waited a few seconds, and then felt a tug that indicated someone was climbing up the rope. It was hard to determine who it was, but based on the figure's weight, it seemed logical to assume that it was either Ivanhoe or Malcolm in their armour.

* * *

Looking up at Robin as he crawled into the window, the Prince smiled a little at the ease of this whole operation. Marcus had only taken a few short minutes to dispatch whatever resistance he'd encountered inside the tower, and then the other members of the Fellowship had crawled into the window without any problems with other demons attacking the group already inside. First Malcolm, then the Black Arrow, Ivanhoe, Robin...

And, last of all, him.

Grabbing the rope that hung down beside him, the Prince began to climb the steep wall, the rope moving forward slightly as the person holding it briefly lost their balance with the extra weight. However, the loss was only temporary, and the rope steadied out again fairly soon.

However, as the Prince climbed up the wall, he couldn't shake a nagging feeling the back of his skull.

_It can't be _this_ easy..._

He suspicions were confirmed when he climbed over the window sill and found himself looking at the unconscious forms of Robin and Ivanhoe, with the Black Arrow and Marcus only a couple of feet away from them.

"What the...?" he gasped, spinning around in confusion and horror...

To see Malcolm standing in one corner, the rope looped around his arm, a large red-and-black demon standing behind him with a wicked grin on its face and a blunt, powerful-looking mace in one hand.

"YOU!" the Prince yelled, horrified.

"Me," Malcolm smirked.

And he swung the rod at the Prince, striking him in the side of the head.

As the Prince fell to the ground, his consciousness rapidly fading, he realised what his visions had been trying to tell him. The tone of Malcolm's voice in those final moments...

_It had been Mordred's voice_!


	11. Not Without Incident

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Malcolm; he's someone from fiction going around under an alias. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

**Funky in Fishnet:** Glad to hear you didn't guess earlier; I wouldn't want to think I'd made it obvious. Anyway, hope the story continues to please you; it's about to get VERY interesting…

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

"Ouch…" Marcus grunted, as he shook his head, trying to shake off the pain that was currently stabbing through his head. What the hell had happened…?

Then he remembered.

"_Malcolm_!" he roared, as he tried to leap to his feet and start trying to find the traitor…

Only to realise that he was chained to the wall by his arms a couple of feet off the floor.

"There's no point in straining yourself, my good Marcus," a voice said from off to the side. "These chains have been specially conditioned to resist the efforts of you and any of the Fellowship members should you attempt to escape; Even your remarkable physical prowess cannot break them."

Marcus looked over in the direction of the voice, noting as he did so that the rest of the Fellowship were hanging alongside him, the Prince and Robin looking like they were getting close to waking up. He briefly rejoiced at that image, but then saw the figure standing at the end of the cell.

It was Malcolm, smirking at his with a cockiness that Marcus found exceedingly aggravating. His staff and robe were mostly the same as they had been before, except that now his robes were dark black instead of their original blue, and the ball on the end of his staff was a similar colour. Lying beside him was a large pile of what Marcus recognised as the Fellowship's main weapons; evidently whoever had imprisoned them wanted to rub their failure in their faces.

"Why did you do this, Malcolm?" Marcus asked the supposed occult expert, trying to ignore the pain of his arms being stretched by the chains. "Why did you sell out your kingdom for these… monsters?"

"Sell it out?" Malcolm grinned, looking at Marcus with a wicked glint in his eyes. "You're over four hundred years old, Marcus; surely you've worked it out by now, with all that experience behind you? I was never interested in saving England; I was only ever interested in serving the Demon Master." His grin spread. "Or, as I have always called her, 'Mother'."

"_Mother_?!" Marcus yelled in surprise and shock; this was getting ridiculous. "The Demon Master is a woman _and _your mother?! Who are you?!"

"Mordred…" a weak voice gasped from between the two figures. Glancing in the direction of the voice, Marcus was relieved to see the Prince had at last woken up; it wasn't much in the long run, but at least he'd have some company. "He's Mordred… Morgraine LeFay…"

"Oh dear god…" Marcus breathed, as he looked over at Malcolm- _Mordred_- in horror. He hadn't been active for the fall of Camelot, of course- Viktor had been the active Elder at that time- but he'd received all of his friends' memories at the Awakening, and the fall of Camelot had not been a pretty thing to witness. Vampires generally stayed out of human affairs, but the fall of Camelot had been an occasion where even Viktor had wanted to intervene; it had been a good kingdom, and its fall had decimated Britain for decades.

To be in front of the man who had not only been involved in its fall, but had struck the penultimate blow against Arthur himself…

It was all Marcus could do not to pull his arms out of their sockets to kill this fiend in human form.

"Don't look so surprised, Marcus," Mordred smiled up at the vampire. "You should have guessed that the Demon Master would have to be a person possessed of remarkable dark magics, and there are few who control darker magics than my mother. What, did you think someone with the power needed to control this army would just hide away and not use their powers until now?"

He grinned. "Of course, we're not quite there yet. We need a couple of sacrifices in order to bring through the biggest guns in our potential army- the Old Ones, naturally-otherwise we'd already be running rampant throughout the world. I assume you can guess why we've waited this long?"

Marcus's eyes bulged in horror. So _that _was why Mordred hadn't just killed them all in their sleep!

He was going to use the powerful life energies of the Fellowship to awaken the most ancient of all demons…

"We'll stop you!" Marcus roared, trying desperately to pull the chains out of the wall and attack the man he had once counted as an ally.

"Oh, be realistic!" Mordred laughed, as he walked forward to look at the Fellowship. "You're all tied up. There are no reinforcements coming to save you. Our army shall walk free. And you, the Fellowship of Extraordinary Men, a team unlike any other that has ever been formed, a team formed for the sole purpose of saving humanity, have walked into our hands, giving us the last pieces we needed to complete our takeover, without complication, without damage, and practically without incident."

"No," the Prince said suddenly, from where he hung on his chains.

"What…." Mordred asked, as he turned to face the foreign figure.

"Not without incident," the Prince said simply.

Then the manacles holding his feet fell apart, and he swung forward in a half-circle, his feet landing on the wall just above his head as the manacles holding his wrists fell apart. Instantly, he tore along the wall, running above all the other members of the Fellowship, and watching as their manacles crumbled into dust as he passed them.

Then, before the still-dazed members had even finished falling, the Prince was below them,

"We're coming," he told Mordred simply.

Then he threw the dagger at the staff. The blue ball on the end of the staff shattered, the staff burst into flames…

And Mordred vanished.

Marcus blinked in surprise, and looked over at the Prince.

"How…?" he asked, not sure what to say next.

"Mordred was an illusion," the Prince explained, as he picked up his dagger and looked over at the hanging form of Marcus. "I realised that when I tried looking at him with what I call my 'time-vision'- a means by which I can see how old and experienced people are when they are in front of me- and the particles comprising him did not age as a human's would. I therefore concluded that he was only a projection of a human, and not a real person as such.

"Regarding the chains…" He shrugged. "It was simple enough. I simply accelerated the passage of time immediately around my wrists and ankles, and they rapidly became too old to support my weight."

"Impressive…" Robin said, as he finally felt coherent enough to speak. "How come… you never told us… you could do that?"

"I couldn't before," the Prince said, as he turned around to face his current leader. "However, I believe that this tower's powerful magics are boosting my own powers to a remarkable degree, thus allowing more control over time than I have possessed up until now."

"Excellent," Marcus smiled, before his face hardened and he jerked his thumb over towards the other Fellowship members. "Now, not meaning to be rude, but could you _get them back on their feet already_?!"

"Oh, of course," the Prince smiled, as he turned to the other members of the Fellowship. Waving his hands, he watched as the other three Fellowship members glowed briefly, and then Robin sat up as Ivanhoe and the Black Arrow began to stir.

"Uugggh… What hit me?" the Black Arrow grunted, as he looked over at the others. "I feel like…"

Then his eyes shot open and he sat up like he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning.

"MALCOLM!" he roared, looking around the room. "Where is he?!"

"Evidently, he's not here," Ivanhoe grunted as he got to his feet, clutching his head as he winced from a sharp burst of pain. Blinking his eyes open, he looked over at Robin. "Why would he do that?"

"Simple," Robin said, as he got to his feet. "His real name is Mordred, and the Demon Master is his mother, Morgraine LeFay. I assume you two know who they are?"

The shocked expressions on the Black Arrow and Ivanhoe said it all.

"M… Morgraine LeFay?" Ivanhoe asked, sounding as though he wanted to be contradicted. "As in _King Arthur's_ Morgraine LeFay? His half-sister? The witch? The one that destroyed Camelot?"

"Exactly," Marcus said, as he grabbed his daggers from the pile of weapons on the ground and slid them into his belt. "Apparently she's somehow managed to survive all these years since the fall of Camelot, and now she wants to take control of Britain with aid from those demons we've been formed to deal with." He sighed a little as he turned around to face them. "And as if that wasn't bad enough, Malcolm only left us alive so that he could sacrifice us to summon the Old Ones."

"The who?" the Black Arrow asked curiously.

"Demons who were created at the beginning of the world," Marcus explained, as he grabbed various other weapons on the ground and started handing them out to the rest of the Fellowship. "According to prophecy, the world shall end should they ever be awakened and allowed free reign, and they shall be unstoppable when their time comes." His face hardened as he handed Robin his bow. "Our only chance is to kill Morgraine and Mordred before they find someone else to sacrifice in our places, and find some way to destroy all the demons here at once."

"Right," Robin said, as he grabbed the bow from Marcus's hands and slung it over his shoulder. "Ivanhoe, you shall handle Mordred; Marcus, Prince, Black Arrow, you shall be responsible for targeting the attacking demons. Morgraine is mine."

He looked around at the Fellowship, his harsh stare allowing no argument. "We have our mission, our enemy, and we know what's at stake. We cannot fail in this struggle, or all that we know and love shall die."

The Fellowship nodded briefly, and then turned towards the door of their little cell.


	12. The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Morgraine and Mordred. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

**Funky in Fishnet: **Glad to hear that the Prince thing went well; I was a bit uncertain about that.

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

As soon as they were out of the room, Marcus took up position behind the other members of the Fellowship, the Prince taking up his place at the front while Robin, Ivanhoe and the Black Arrow waited in the middle. It was an instinctive placing, but everyone saw the sense in it; Marcus was the best equipped of the Fellowship to handle surprise attacks on them, and the Prince's time-bending powers would help the Fellowship escape any demons approaching them from the front if the need arose.

"Go," the Prince whispered, his sword drawn as he looked around the corridor in front of him. The Fellowship ran forward, diving through the door opposite them as fast as they could. Marcus thought he heard something walking along the corridor they'd just left as he shut the door behind him, but he decided not to mention it; it wouldn't help anyone to get nervous about being caught before the main fight.

* * *

Eventually, after diving through various other doors, gradually heading deeper and deeper into the tower, the Prince froze, raising one hand in a holding gesture.

"What?" the Black Arrow whispered. "Are we there?"

The Prince looked back at his friends, and nodded.

"We're there," he said simply. "Grab my hands."

"You're going to freeze time?" Ivanhoe asked, as he reached out and grabbed the Prince's left arm.

"Yes," the Prince nodded. "It's going to be easy enough to get in there, but I'm sure we'd all prefer to know what we'd be dealing with before we actually charge in, arrows flying and swords slashing."

Robin nodded. "A sensible decision," he said to his friend. "Do it."

The Prince nodded, grabbed the other Fellowship members by the hands, and walked into the door as the air around them began to shimmer, and everything around them froze in motion.

Instantly, the Fellowship dived into the room, the five of them looking around the room as they entered it…

And staring at it in horror.

It was massive. It appeared to stretch all the way from the top of the tower to the bottom, but seemed to stretch to a width and height that was even greater than that of the tower they were inside in the first place.

The Fellowship were on a large stone path that stretched in a circle around the walls of the tower, only a hundred or so metres away from the bottom of the tower, which was full to near-bursting point with all kinds of demons. At the bottom of the tower, there was a large swirling portal, currently crackling with purple energy. The Fellowship looked down into the portal curiously, and were shocked to see a large clawed tentacle reaching out of it, twisted in a manner that suggested terrible pain and agony.

However, their attention was soon drawn to the other end of the bolt of energy; specifically, a large throne, several hundred feet above the Fellowship, above which was hovering- literally _hovering_- a tall, beautiful woman in black robes with magnificent, long red hair and a content grin on her face, surrounded by the pale purple glow from the portal.

(AN: Picture Morgraine as looking like a red-haired Jennifer Connelly, similar to her appearance in 'Hulk'.)

About two hundred feet below her, and almost directly opposite the Fellowship, Mordred was standing, watching the claw below him with an arrogant smirk on his face. He had apparently discarded his robe, which was now lying beside him in a heap, and was dressed in black armour, totally covered save for his head, and held a long, deadly-looking sword in his hands as he held it in front of him.

However, before any of the Fellowship could do anything else, the Prince dragged them all back out the door, slamming it shut behind him, and then restarting time as soon as he'd ascertained that nobody was watching them.

* * *

"What… was… _that_?!" the Black Arrow said, looking over at Marcus in horror.

"Presumably, Morgraine has decided that she's prepared to settle for just one of the Old Ones for the moment," Marcus said, as the rest of the Fellowship looked around at each other in horror.

"But… but you said she would require human sacrifices to awaken the Old Ones!" Ivanhoe said, almost sounding like he was panicking now.

"If she was _sane_, that would be her most sensible option, yes," Marcus said. "However, it is possible to summon the Old Ones without sacrificing humans, although the strain on the human casting the spell would be phenomenal- it would come remarkably close to killing them-, and they would only be able to call one of the Old Ones, rather than all of them." He sighed. "Of course, even one of them would be too much for anybody to stop them." He looked around at the Fellowship, his expression as fixed as stone. "We have to strike now, before that… _thing _comes through."

Robin nodded. "Let's go," he said, as he checked the arrow in his bow. The Black Arrow did the same, and the other three pulled out their swords and daggers as they looked at their leader.

Robin swallowed. "You have all seen what we face beyond that door," he said, as he looked around at the Fellowship. "We are all aware of the stakes, and we are also aware of the odds against us achieving success. However, I have one thing I wish to say." He smiled slightly, a dry, humourless grin that didn't quite suit him. "Think of what you are fighting for. Picture what will happen to your loved ones if you fail in this struggle. And above all, remember that you are now part of a whole. Whatever happens in there, you shall not face it alone."

He held out one hand, palm down, in the centre of the circle formed by the Fellowship. The Prince followed it, placing his hand on top of Robin's, Marcus, Ivanhoe, and the Black Arrow repeating the gesture.

Robin looked the Fellowship, and they all nodded before pulling back.

"Remember; Morgraine is mine," he said simply. The he turned to Marcus and jerked his thumb towards the door. "Break it down."

Marcus nodded, turned towards the door, and charged forward, turning his shoulder to face the door. It cracked in half, the two pieces flying into the room, striking a nearby demon with two large horns on the sides of its head, knocking it back into a collection of small hedgehog-like creatures carrying swords.

As the Fellowship tore through the door, all the faces of the army turned to look in their direction, raising their weapons in preparation for battle, and about half of the Fellowship- the Black Arrow and Ivanhoe specifically- thought the same thing.

_Did we just make a terrible mistake?_

* * *

"_WHAT?!_" Morgraine Le Fay roared, as she turned to look down at the five figures. "_You five DARE to defy ME?? **ME??!!** When I am the controller of this army of darkness??!!_" she added, as she waved her hands around to indicate the mass of demons that were already turning to face the Fellowship.

Robin simply smiled a little as he walked forward to look up at Morgraine.

"We dare, Morgraine," he said simply. "We dare because we are all representatives of the world you seek to destroy, and we shall not tolerate any damage to the people we have sworn to lead and protect. We dare because we were formed to save our world, and we shall never give up until you have fallen." Then he smiled and raised his bow. "But mainly, we dare because we simply hate you."

And he fired the arrow at the woman in front of him.

Morgraine's arm raced up, catching the arrow in her hand before it could strike her. Breaking it in two, she threw it aside as she looked at Robin, a smirk on her face.

"You thought _that _could stop me?" she asked him, as she started to lower herself down to face him and the Fellowship. "I have survived countless magical battles with Merlin himself; you thought an _arrow_ could hurt me?"

Robin simply sighed as he faced Morgraine, slinging his bow over his shoulder as he drew a sword.

"Maybe it could not hurt you," he said to his foe, as he shifted into a combat stance. "The question is, in a fair fight, could you hurt me?"

Morgraine looked at Robin with a smug expression on her face. Then she nodded.

"Very well," she said. "I shall face you in combat, Robin Hood, on two conditions."

"Name them," Robin replied.

"One; none of your fellows shall interfere with the struggle," Morgraine said.

"Agreed, so long as yours agree to do the same," Robin said. "And the second?"

"I choose the battleground," Morgraine said.

Robin simply nodded.

Morgraine smiled and waved her hand in mid air.

Instantly, a large hole formed in the air in front of Robin, through which could be seen a barren landscape covered with rocks and grass. It resembled the portal through which Morgraine had been channelling energy to awaken the Old Ones when the Fellowship had arrived, but orange, and a great deal smaller; it looked like it could only transport a couple of people at a time.

"In here," Morgraine said, looking at Robin from above the portal. "I shall leave it open so that you may depart if you should win the combat, but you may not leave while I still live, and I may not use my magic. You shall be free to go when, and _only _when, I am dead. Agreed?"

Marcus leaned over to Robin's ear.

"Don't do it!" he whispered at his friend. "She's bound to have set up a catch! She's evil through and through; we can't trust anything she says!"

Robin sighed. "I have no choice, Marcus," he said. "If I fight her here, there is no guarantee she won't just destroy us all in the crossfire. At least this way, I can insure none of you are hurt." He looked over at the vampire. "Promise me one thing."

"Yes?" Marcus asked, as Morgraine rose over the portal and lowered herself down to face its entrance.

"If I fail, tackle her yourself," Robin said. "You would stand the best chance of vanquishing her for good, and I shall not have anyone else risking their lives because I was not good enough."

Marcus nodded. "I shall," he said. Then he reached up and clasped Robin's shoulder. "Good luck, Robin Hood."

"Thank you, Marcus," Robin said. Then he turned to face Morgraine. "I am ready."

Morgraine smiled. "Let's go," she said simply.

Then she spun in a brief circle and dived into the portal. Robin took a deep breath and leapt in after her, the portal briefly turning red as the two of them entered it. Then it swirled around for a few brief seconds, before shrinking to barely a quarter of its original size.

The Black Arrow blinked in surprise, and looked over at Marcus and the Prince.

"Is that going to be a… problem?" he asked them, looking a bit nervous for the fate of his new friend.

* * *

"Oh, no worries," Marcus said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "In the majority of cases involving portals like these, they normally shrink down on the 'exit' side to transfer all energy to the side people will be entering it by. Don't worry, I'm sure Robin will be fine!"

He grinned widely at the other three Fellowship members.

"Stop that," Ivanhoe said, raising his sword slightly. "It's not helping matters. Besides, the vampire thing makes you look like you want a meal."

"Excuse me?" a voice said from the side. "Are you going to talk all day, or can we kill you yet?"

The four remaining members of the Fellowship turned around to look at the vast army of demons standing around them, the forces either armed and dangerous or just simply dangerous.

"Oh, nuts…" the Black Arrow whispered, as he looked at the forces around him. "We're in trouble now."

Marcus shrugged and looked over at the others. "Well, if this is the way it has to end, I'd just like to say it's been a pleasure to work with you all," he smiled. "I have never known a braver collection of mortals."

"Thank you," the Prince nodded. Then he turned to face the surrounding demons. "Beware," he said to them, "we are the four deadliest non-demonic beings on the planet, the deadliest of fighters from all over the world. We shall not fall easily."

The demons looked around at each other, and burst out laughing.

The Prince looked back at Ivanhoe. "That's not the reaction I was hoping for," he said, looking a little dejected.

"Oh, for the love of our Lord…" the Black Arrow groaned, as he pulled an arrow out of his quiver and slid it onto his bow. "If you want to make an impression, my friends," he said, as he walked forward to stand in front of the others, "don't stand around and talk to your foes."

He raised the bow and fired the arrow, striking a particularly large, muscular demon directly in the eye. The demon screamed, reached up to its eye, coughed up some blood, and then collapsed onto the ground, the demons behind it stepping out of the way of its collapsing body.

The demons looked over at their fallen comrade, and then turned to face the Fellowship.

"Well, _that_ certainly got their attention," Marcus muttered to the Black Arrow.

Then the entire army roared as though they were all one beast, and leapt onto the Fellowship.

Instantly, the three humans and the vampire launched into action, their swords flashing desperately as they fought against the onslaught of dark opponents.

The final battle had begun.


	13. The Power of the Fellowship

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Morgraine and Mordred. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

**Funky in Fishnet: **Glad the battle's going down well, and thanks for saying you like my portrayal of Marcus; I was a bit uncertain about him, I have to confess.

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

As Robin felt the air around him ripple with his passing through the portal, he found himself wondering what kind of fight he'd let himself in for. He knew for a fact that Morgraine was a powerful sorceress, capable of performing remarkable feats of magic, but what else could she do?

What were her abilities when it came to fighting an opponent hand-to-hand?

What kind of weapons would she favour?

Were there any weaknesses she had that he might be able to exploit?

Before he could go any further in his train of thought, he felt himself hit stone, and rolled to his feet straight away, pulling out his bow and fitting an arrow to the string at the same time.

"Ah, you're here," Morgraine said, from where she was standing in front of him. At some point between her entering the portal and now, she'd changed from her original long black robes into a sleeker, more form-fitting outfit of a similar colour. It vaguely resembled armour, but it totally covered her legs and arms, which suggested that it was a great deal more flexible than any armour Robin was acquainted with. Her long red hair hung down her back, and she wore a golden face-mask that only exposed her eyes and nostrils.

"Isn't that a violation of our rules?" Robin asked, indicating the armour with his bow.

"Not at all," Morgraine smiled. "You specifically said you doubted I could hurt you in a fair fight; nothing was said about me being equally capable of being wounded. I am perfectly entitled to wear this armour; I break no rules that either of us made."

Robin briefly swore under his breath, but then sighed and pulled his bow back.

"Very well then," he said to her. "Let us begin."

He fired the arrow at her, striking her directly in the chest this time; his closer proximity to her left her with less time to react to the arrow. Unfortunately, it still didn't affect her that much; the armour just absorbed the arrow and left her standing, totally unscratched.

She looked down at the arrow as it fell to the ground, and then looked up at Robin with a smile on her face.

"My turn," she said simply.

Holding out her hand, she flexed her fingers briefly and a large sword appeared in her hand.

"Oh, don't think I'm breaking my word to you, Robin," she said, smiling cockily at him. "I assure you, I am not a liar, for all my other faults; this sword bears no magical properties at all; I just lack any actual weapons of my own normally, so I had to create one for myself." She raised the sword in a defensive posture, and smiled at him. "On guard?"

Robin swallowed nervously, but drew his own sword and raised it.

As his hands slid around the handle, the rest of the world seemed to slip away from him. There was no longer an army of demons threatening his new friends; there was no longer an entire world depending on him defeating this powerful foe before him, and he was no longer in another dimension far from his own one…

There was only him and his new opponent; an opponent that he had to defeat.

An opponent that he _would _defeat, because he had no other choice but to stop her.

He held the sword up in front of him, and grinned.

"Let's go," he said.

She leapt forward, bringing the sword down in a move that would have severed his arm if he hadn't deflected her blow with a strike of his own.

The fight was on.

* * *

Marcus roared in anger as he sliced his way through the mass of demons in front of him, his daggers shining and spinning like leaves caught in a massive updraft. He cut through the smaller demons in front of him like dry kindling, leaving them lying around him in small heaps as he moved on to the next round.

"Get down!" a voice yelled out from the side. Marcus spun around and ducked, just in time to see another Brachen demon try to drive a stake into his heart as the Black Arrow planted an arrow right in the middle of its head.

Marcus nodded at the Black Arrow. "Thanks for the assistance," he said. Then he raised an enquiring eyebrow. "Where are the others?"

"Last time I saw them, the Prince was trying to prevent any of his opponents from falling into the pit with the Old Ones, and Ivanhoe was trying to get to Mordred," the Black Arrow explained. He looked curiously at Mordred. "Would it actually pose a problem if a demon was 'given' to the Old One down there?"

Marcus nodded. "Possibly," he said. "I can't be certain, but-" He paused, spun around, and dug his sword into the head of a large furry demon that resembled a dog.

"Rouge lycan," he said by way of explanation, indicating the collapsed form. "Anyway, as I was saying, it may be that demons will serve just as well as humans, but their lack of purity may mean that the Old One won't be as powerful as it would have been otherwise."

"Well… that's good, isn't it?" the Black Arrow asked, as he spun around to plant an arrow in a nearby Fyarl demon.

"Not really," Marcus said, as he turned to stand back-to-back with the Black Arrow, his daggers raised in a prepared posture. "Even in a weakened state, an Old One would be more than a match for anything we had to throw at it, and probably even an entire army wouldn't slow it down." He heard the comforting _thwip_ of arrows flying, and smiled briefly; evidently, the Black Arrow wasn't letting the grass grow under his feet.

"Any advice for this situation?" the Black Arrow asked the vampire, as he slid another arrow into the bow. "Demons aren't exactly my forte, after all."

"Just one main point," Marcus said, as he stabbed an approaching something that looked like a Tuingas of some kind. "Deliver blows that would kill a human instantly; you have a better chance of at least slowing them down that way. Whatever their differences, demons generally have the same weak points as humans; they're just harder to exploit."

"Right," the Black Arrow said, as he fired an arrow into the eye of something that had what looked like sharp claws. "Good luck, Marcus!" he yelled, as the demons turned their attention back to the Fellowship members.

"You too," Marcus said.

Then the two of them leapt forward onto the oncoming demons, Marcus tearing into something that looked like it had a squid for a head while the Black Arrow launched arrow after arrow at a large serpent-like creature.

* * *

"Get… BACK!" Ivanhoe roared, as his sword sliced through the neck of the large demon in front of him; it almost appeared to be more fat then anything else.

He kicked angrily at the fallen form in front of him. "DON'T get in my way," he said simply.

Then he heard- or maybe sensed- something coming hurtling towards him from behind. Instinctively, Ivanhoe swung around, raising his shield as he did so, throwing the strike back…

And found himself face to face with the man he had once called Malcolm, but now knew as his potentially most dangerous foe.

"Ah, the knight seeks to challenge me?" Mordred grinned, as he swung his sword around in his hand; evidently he didn't think Ivanhoe would have much chance in a fight between the two of them. "You forget; I learned my skills from the best that Camelot had to offer. I've been schooled in the arts of cunning and guile since before I can remember. What makes you think you can stop me?"

Ivanhoe didn't even smile. He just raised his sword in a combat stance and looked at Mordred, his eyes as hard as stones.

"Nobody wins forever, Mordred," he said simply. "And if this is my time to die, I promise you this; I won't go down easily." Then the left corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile. "And this I swear to you… I won't go down alone."

Mordred smirked. "You _really _think you can pull this off?" he asked the knight, as he raised his own sword in a similar gesture. "I'll be sure to make it quick and painless, I promise you that… You foolish mortal."

Ivanhoe swung his sword forward, striking Mordred on his shield with such force that the dark knight found himself swung around by almost a complete 180 degrees, following it up with a rapid swipe at his opponent's left arm that sent him straight to the ground. It didn't do any actual harm, but it still left Mordred winded.

Ivanhoe held his blade under Mordred's chin as the figure turned to look at him.

"I'm not foolish," Ivanhoe said simply.

Then he stepped back, and watched as Mordred rose to his feet to look at him.

"To the death?" Mordred asked.

Ivanhoe nodded. "To the death."

Mordred smiled. "Good."

The two men raised their swords, and the battle was on.

* * *

When the fight started, the Prince didn't even give himself time to think of an actual strategy; he just lashed out at the demons around him, hacking at them with his sword whenever he saw something rise up from near him, and didn't stop until they were down.

He didn't know much about demons, but he knew what had to go down, and right, that was everything in the room about from the other members of the Fellowship.

They weren't going to awaken that Old One, whatever it was, if he had his say in it.

And speaking of which…

Suddenly, the Prince realised that none of the Fellowship had stopped to see how Morgraine's departure had affected the summoning of the Old One; was it still coming, or did it require her presence to go any further?

Instinctively freezing time, the Prince ran through the demons towards the edge of the path around the pit…

And froze in horror at the sight before him.

Whatever was coming out of the pit evidently wasn't encountering any difficulties leaving without Morgraine's help; the portal wasn't any larger, but its tentacles were reaching out from the gap in the centre of the swirling energy, lashing out at the sides, straining as though trying to reach something.

Suddenly, something caught the Prince's eye.

One of the tentacles was moving towards him.

_What…?_ The Prince thought, as he turned to look at it, more amazed at the _how _of what was happening in front of him then anything else.

Then it occurred to him. He was trying to control the time of something that wasn't even from this dimension originally. It probably perceived time in a completely different manner from the way humans saw it, and so couldn't actually be stopped like everything else here…

Then the tentacle struck him, knocking him off the path around him and towards the massive energy pit below him.


	14. Death of a Nightmare

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Morgraine and Mordred. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

**Funky in Fishnet: **Hope this lives up to your expectations

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

As the Prince fell through the air towards the vast pit of energy below him, he could only try and think of anything he could use that wouldn't get him killed or consumed by this… _thing _below him. He couldn't just freeze time around him and take the opportunity to think of something better; this creature hadn't been affected by his earlier attempts to halt the flow of time, and he doubted he'd ever be any more successful than that.

Then again…

Desperately, the Prince drew his sword and swung around in the air until he was facing the vast hole that the creature was crawling its way out of. He saw a vague glimpse of some kind of large mouth filled with sharp teeth, and a single, glistening green eye. In desperation, the Prince thrust his sword forward, channelling all of his natural power through the blade that had served him so well in the long years since his exile…

And it worked.

The sheet force of the power being channelled through the sword, particularly given that the Prince's time-bending abilities had already increased to a remarkable degree, not only froze the massive creature below him when all earlier attempts had failed, but also slowed the normal rules of gravity so that the Prince's fall was slowed down to almost a fraction of its original pace.

The Prince grinned; this whole thing was working out better then he'd expected.

Launching forward through the suddenly apparently thicker air, the Prince practically swam towards the tentacle nearest to him, standing on it when he was close enough. Then, with a move born of both desperation and determination, he charged up the tentacle as though it were merely a hill of some kind, leaping off the tentacle once he reached the top.

As he flew past the tentacle, he took one last desperate swipe at the tentacle with his sword, and watched in glee as the tip of the tentacle was severed from the rest of the thing, before he landed feet-first on the wall of the large room and started to run back towards the floor, landing on it and decapitating a large demon with horns on its head in one move.

"Prince!" a voice said from behind him. Spinning around, the Prince grinned with relief when he saw Marcus and the Black Arrow, fighting off a mass of demons, but still alive.

"Little help here!" the Black Arrow called over to his friend, as he fired another couple of arrows off at an approaching demon with what seemed to be shark fins on its arms and scorpion claws sticking out of its side. "We're outnumbered and Ivanhoe's nowhere to be seen! We need some backup, _fast_!"

"Right!" the Prince yelled back in reply, drawing his sword and slicing his way through the demons towards his friends. As soon as he reached them, he turned around and the three of them stood back-to-back, their weapons drawn and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"Anyone seen Ivanhoe?" the Prince asked Marcus out of the corner of his mouth, as the demons started to reorganize in preparation for a new attack on the Fellowship.

"The last time I saw him he was heading off to tackle Mordred," the Black Arrow replied, as he slid an arrow into his bow. "We can't count on help from him; he'll be too occupied with that fight."

"So, unless Robin wins and comes back through the portal, we're on our own?" Marcus asked casually.

The Black Arrow nodded.

Marcus smiled.

"Good," he said simply. "I like a challenge."

Then the demons came forward, and the battle was on.

* * *

Swinging his sword down in a desperate strike, Ivanhoe cursed under his breath as Mordred blocked the blow with his own sword. They'd been fighting for what seemed like ages, trading blow after blow in a manner that was becoming repetitive, and Ivanhoe _still _couldn't find any weaknesses in Mordred's defences that he could exploit.

Then again…

Ivanhoe smiled as he parried another blow of Mordred's. So far, all he'd been doing was playing by the traditional rules of swordfighting, and Mordred had been doing pretty much the same. On the other hand, if he did something that _wasn't _in the rulebook…

He'd always been in favour of fighting fair.

But, with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, he'd be prepared to put his usual moral scruples aside.

Swinging his sword towards Mordred's arm, Ivanhoe grinned as Mordred stopped the sword with his own; exactly as he'd planned.

Drawing back his left hand, he launched his arm forward and punched Mordred in the face, hearing a satisfying crunch as his opponent's nose broke under his fist. Mordred yelped in pain and instinctively clutched at his face, his sword falling from his hands to land on the ground beside him.

Ivanhoe smirked.

Perfect.

He didn't even stop to think; he swung his sword and cut Mordred's head right off, taking several fingers with it in the process, and watched dispassionately as the man who'd once briefly been his ally collapsed to the ground.

He'd rarely killed people in his fights, and when he did, it was only when he was certain that the world would be a better place without them in it.

He was pretty sure this had been one of those times.

He looked at the body for a few seconds, and then he turned around to face the onrushing army of demons. Drawing his sword, he yelled out in defiance and charged into the fray, hacking and slicing at everything in his path, his expression grim.

He doubted thathe wasgoing to win this time.

But, if he had to die, he would die trying.

* * *

"Will. You. _Stop_. _FIGHTING_!" Morgraine yelled at Robin, as he parried back another blow of her sword with a strike of his own.

"No," Robin replied, as he launched forward with a few quick strikes of his own, although none of them managed to land on the powerful witch in front of him. "I have fought many foes in my lifetime, Morgraine, but I have never bowed to any of them, no matter how much stronger then me they were, and I shall not start now, when so much is at stake."

Morgraine laughed harshly as she brought the sword down towards his face, in a blow that Robin only just managed to catch with his own blade.

"You _honestly _think you can stop me?" she laughed, looking at Robin scornfully. "I am a being of magic, Robert of Locksley; no normal means of death can harm me!"

Robin didn't reply to that comment. Instead he let his body shift into automatic, deflecting Morgraine's constant blows while trying to remember a book he'd read some years back, on a were-something…

Then he remembered.

The creature was a werewolf; a supernatural creature that was normally a man, but turned into a ferocious beast when exposed to the bright light of the full moon. Although powerful, and more then a match for men due to its beast-like strength, it had one fatal weakness; anything made of silver would harm it.

Quite frankly, Robin could never recall a plan of his that had less chance of working, or been based on more flimsy evidence…

But it was all he had.

And he even knew how to put it into practice.

Ducking under Morgraine's next swipe, he rolled backwards, grabbing his bow from his shoulder as he pulled an arrow out of his quiver. Glancing at it briefly, he nodded, grabbed the head of the arrow and broke it off, before putting the arrow to the bow and firing it at Morgraine.

* * *

The arrow struck Morgraine in the shoulder, but Morgraine just looked at it and smirked.

"Didn't you just hear me, Robin?" she said, looking at her adversary with a smile on her face. "Normal weapons won't work on me!"

"Not even when they're silver?" Robin asked, trying to sound casual even though he was almost terrified; if this didn't work, he didn't know what he could do.

Morgraine's eyes widened in horror as she glanced down at her shoulder again. Robin was relieved to see that the wound had started emit smoke, as though the arrow had started a fire inside Morgraine's body.

"No! NO!" she yelled, looking down at the injury as the smoke started to spread.

"Oh yes," Robin smiled, looking at her as flames started to emit from the injury. "You gave yourself over to evil, Morgraine; now, evil shall claim what it was deprived of so long ago." Then he waved goodbye and ran towards the portal leading back to their dimension, diving through it and vanishing from view.

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOooooooooooo…….." Morgraine yelled, as flames began to consume her body and clothes…


	15. The Birth of a Legend

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Fellowship, the majority of the demons they're fighting (I may be improvising for some of them from here on in), or Morgraine and Mordred. The plot is mine, and that's it.

Feedback: Is Skinner slightly annoying? Of COURSE I want some!

The Fellowship of Extraordinary Men

Ivanhoe wasn't entirely sure how it had happened. One moment he was desperately hacking away at countless demons, who never seemed to run out of men no matter how man heads or limbs he cut off, and then he was hit in the side by a flying green figure that knocked him to the ground.

He leapt to his feet and was about to attack the creature before he saw that it was Robin, and relaxed.

"You won, then?" he asked his new friend, as he moved his sword in an automatic gesture while attempting to deflect the blows of the demons around him.

"Yes," Robin said simply, pulling out his bow and starting to fire arrows wildly at the dark army around them. "Now, just try and hold for a bit longer…" he muttered, glancing back in the direction he'd leapt from.

Curious, Ivanhoe turned around to look in the same direction as his friend…

Only to be met by a massive, blindingly white explosion that threw him and Robin off their feet and sent several demons running away from, screaming in agony as they started to rapidly burn up.

"What the…?" Ivanhoe asked, looking around in confusion. "What happened?"

"Morgraine must have exploded!" Robin yelled, as he hauled Ivanhoe to his feel and looked around himself, desperately trying to find the others. "The loss of her energy must have triggered some kind of internal destruction in the magics that built this tower!"

"Exactly!" a voice called out from behind them

Spinning around, Ivanhoe and Robin were shocked to see the Prince and the Black Arrow holding Marcus up and trying desperately to cover him with cloaks; he almost appeared to be smoking on every exposed bit of skin.

"What happened to him!" Robin yelled at the Prince in horror, indicating Marcus's smoking form.

"I think it's the vampire in him," the Prince explained, looking down at the smouldering form beside him. "Whatever that blast was, if it's had such an adverse affect on the demons," here he indicated the demons around them, who were running about screaming as flames started to sprout all over them, "evidently makes no exceptions for the fact that Marcus here is essentially an enhanced human rather then anything else."

"Right," Robin said, glancing around the tower, his eyes eventually falling on a largish window on one side of the tower. He could see some glints of sunlight through it- evidently they'd been unconscious for longer then any of them had guessed- but right now, beggars couldn't be choosers. They'd just have to help Marcus could cope with a few minute's exposure to the sun at least…

"This way!" he yelled, charging through the mass of demons, the rest of the Fellowship close behind.

* * *

As they charged through the mass of monsters, Ivanhoe, who was at the back, took the opportunity to glance around as the tower collapsed, and realised that things were worse then anyone could have expected; the portal in the middle of the room was firing out random bursts of energy at all the surrounding demons, and it even appeared to be getting smaller.

It was as though it was trying to absorb energy from them to keep it going now that it had lost the focus supplied by Morgraine's magic, and, since the Fellowship were probably dwarfed by the number of demons around them, it was having to focus on the less pure life energies of the demons in the area.

That just made it all the more essential they get out of here.

* * *

Robin froze as he reached the window, and his eyes quickly darted over the scene in front of him. He sighed; they were several metres above the ground. With their limited time, there was no way to just try climbing down the tower.

Unless…

He spun around to look at the Prince. "Can you still tap into the tower's magic?" he asked.

The Prince looked up for a few seconds, and then nodded.

"Just about," he said looking over at his leader. "I warn you, though, the tower is currently so unstable that any further drain on its power will only hasten its destruction."

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem; we'll be jumping out when it starts to fall," Robin said, indicating the window. "We need to jump out of this to escape. As soon as you can, slow the flow of time around us so that we can adjust our falls to prevent any major injuries; we don't need any injuries when we're this close to escape."

"Right," the Prince nodded, as he looked at the window. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Ivanhoe said, waving one arm at the sun outside the window. "What about Marcus?"

"Forget….it!" Marcus grumbled from under the robes covering him; it sounded like his mouth had been damaged somehow. "We don't….have a choice….now. If I…burn, so be…it; I'll be…alive, at least…"

Robin hesitated, and nodded.

"If you're sure," he said to Marcus. From underneath the robe, Marcus gave Robin a thumbs-up with a slightly red hand.

"Right then," Robin said, turning back towards the window. "Fellowship… JUMP!" he yelled, as he leapt out the window, followed closely by his new friends. As they fell, the Prince waved his hands, slowing the rate of their descent…

* * *

A few hours later, the Fellowship stood beside their cart, looking back at the collapsed ruins of the tower that had been the focus of one of the greatest dangers the world had ever faced.

They'd gotten out of the sun easily enough, the robes that had been covering Marcus providing him with enough cover to get him into the cart, where he'd waited out the next few hours of sunshine while the rest of the Fellowship watched the tower collapse in on itself.

At the last moment, just before it fell apart, massive tentacles had stretched out of the large portal, as though trying to claim the freedom that it had been deprived of so many long years ago. Then the portal had collapsed in on itself, and all that had been left was rubble.

The Fellowship had stared at it for a few moments, and then the Black Arrow sighed.

"It's really over," he smiled, looking around at the others. "We won. Against an army of darkness like nothing the world has ever known… we won."

The rest of the Fellowship exchanged looks, and then Robin smiled and looked back at his fellow archer.

"We did indeed," he said simply.

He held out one hand, palm downwards, out in front of his new colleagues. The rest of them looked at the hand briefly, and then laid their own hands down on top of Robin's, looking around at each other with a smile on their faces.

They couldn't predict if they would ever work together again.

They couldn't predict if they would ever _meet_ each other again.

But one thing was for sure.

These last few nights, as they had met each other and fought together against the power of Morgraine Le Fay and Mordred, a legend had been forged…

And, with any luck, it would continue on into this new world that was developing all around them.


End file.
